0 

4  •: 

5  l 

7  == 

51 
1 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE    MIRROR; 


OR, 


Different  Classes  0f  Christians, 


A   SERIES  OF  LECTURES, 


BY 

REV.  J.  B.  JETER,  D.D., 

RICBMOID,   VIRGINIA. 


WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION, 

KY   REV.   A.    M.    POINDEXTEK. 


NEW  YORK: 
SHELDON,  LAMPORT  &  BLAKEMAN, 

No     115    NASSAU    STKEKT. 

1855. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  t!ic  year  1855,  by 
J  .    13  .    JETER, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  tho  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Virginia. 


•9 

t3  U  K  V .    Y>  A  N  I  K  I ,    \V  I  T  T , 

oo 

OF   PIUNCK    EI)Wi«D    COCJiTV,    VIRGINIA, 

.-  ONE    OF    HIS 

OS 
CO 
3  EARLIEST  AND  MOST  DEVOTED  FRIENDS, 

WHOSE    LIFE    HAS    SO    BEAUTIFULLY  EXEMPLIFIED 

J_  THE     SPIRIT     AND     PRECEPTS     OF 

CM 
O  CHRISTIANITY,    IS    TUB 

FOLLOWING    WORK     INSCRIBED, 

CJ        A8    A  SMALL    TKSTIMONIAL  OK  THE  IIKJH   AXI)  AFKKCTION ATR 

O 

^  KEUAKl)    IX    WHICH     HE    IS    I.'KI.J)    HY    THK 

•J  AUTHOR. 


< 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Introduction, 7 

LECTURE  I. 
Living  Christians, 21 

LECTURE  II. 
Growing  Christians, 40 

LECTURE  III. 
Ubeful  Christians, 67 

LECTURE  IV. 
Happy   Christians 78 

LECTURE  V. 
Doubting  Christians, 89 

LECTURE  VI. 
Timid  Christians, 106 

LECTURE  VII. 
Indolent  Christians 116 

LECTURE  VIII. 
Inconstant  Christians 181 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PAQB 

LECTURE  IX. 
Fashionable  Christians, 141 

LECTURE  X. 
Frivolous  Christians, 163 

LECTURE  XI. 
Sensitive  Christians, 165 

LECTURE  XII. 
Censorious  Christians, 174 

LECTURE  XIII. 
Obstinate  Christians, 186 

LECTURE  XIV. 
Speculative  Christians, 198 

LECTURE  XV. 
Covetous  Christians 209 

LECTURE  XVI. 
Rum  Drinking  Christians, 220 

LECTURE  XVII. 
Inconsistent  Christians, 235 


PREFACE. 


SOME  of  the  following  Lectures  were  delivered  a 
few  years  since,  from  brief  notes,  in  the  regular  course 
of  my  pastoral  ministrations.  They  were  subse- 
quently written  out,  and  published,  with  a  few  ad- 
ditional Lectures,  in  a  periodical  of  very  limited  cir- 
culation. Several  judicious  friends  have  requested 
me  to  republish  them,  in  an  enduring  form.  Hoping 
that  their  more  extensive  circulation  will  contribute 
something  to  increase  the  piety  and  usefulness  of 
Christians,  I  have  concluded  to  comply  with  the  re- 
quest. Some  of  the  Lectures  have  been  re-written, 
to  others  considerable  additions  have  been  made,  the 
rest  have  been  carefully  i«evised,  and  several  entirely 
new  have  been  added. 

The  plan  of  the  work  is,  so  far  as  I  know,  unique. 
Its  main  object  is  the  correction  of  prevalent  faults 
among  professing  Christians.  Some  of  these  aro 
seemingly  trivial,  but  they  seriously  mar  the  moral 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

beauty,  and  impair  the  efficiency  of  those  who  are 
guilty  of  them ;  and  rarely,  if  ever,  is  an  attempt 
made  to  correct  them,  in  the  usual  course  of  pulpit 
instruction.  The  plan  of  these  Lectures,  partly  di- 
dactic and  partly  narrative,  afforded  an  opportunity, 
without  violating  the  unity  of  the  design,  or  giving 
offence,  to  aim  at  the  correction  of  every  species  of 
bin  and  folly. 

The  characters  delineated  in  the  Lectures  are  partly 
fictitious,  but  the  incidents  stated  are  substantially 
true.  Most  of  them  have  occurred  under  my  own  ob- 
servation, some  have  been  related  to  me  by  truthful 
witnesses,  and  a  few  have  been  gleaned  in  reading. 
These  facts  have  been  modified  to  suit  my  purposes, 
disguised  to  avoid  giving  offence,  and  so  combined  as 
to  produce  the  best  effects.  In  some  cases,  the  facts 
are  detailed  with  historical  fidelity,  in  others,  the  sex 
is  changed,  and  in  others  again,  that  is  represented  as 
having  taken  place  with  me  which  took  place  with 
others,  or  as  having  happened  to  others  which  hap- 
pened to  me.  In  some  delineations,  I  had  a  half 
dozen  originals  before  my  mind.  I  do  not  think  that 
any  person  can  find  just  cause  of  offence  in  the  Lec- 
tures. But  should  any  one  surmise  that  I  must  have 
meant  him,  I  can  only  say,  that  I  have  spoken  in  kind- 


PREFACE.  IX 

ness  and  honesty,  and  sincerely  hope  that  he  may  be 
profited  by  my  words. 

To  the  lovers  of  fiction,  I  doubt  not,  my  stories  will 
seem  insipid,  if  not  disgusting;  to  the  unbending  ad- 
vocates of  the  orthodox  plan  of  religious  instruction, 
they  may  appear  incompatible  with  the  dignity  of  the 
pulpit ;  but  if  they  serve  the  purpose  of  correcting, 
in  any  measure,  the  evils  which  abound  in  Christian 
churches,  the  author  will  be  abundantly  compensated 
for  the  labor  of  preparing  them  for  publication. 

J.  B.  JETER. 

RICHMOND,  VIRGINIA,  March  8,  1855. 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

THE  design  of  this  work  is,  by  a  practical  exhibition 
of  Christian  character,  in  its  excellencies  and  defects, 
to  encourage  the  followers  of  Christ  to  cultivate  those 
and  to  avoid  these.  This  is  a  matter  of  great  moment. 
And  the  method  pursued  by  the  author  is  well  adapted 
to  secure  the  object.  Didactic  instruction,  however 
valuable  and  well  expressed,  does  not  so  awaken  at- 
tention as  narrative.  But  there  is  danger  when  nar- 
rative alone  is  used,  that  the  interest  awakened  will 
expend  itself  in  fruitless  sympathy.  A  just  combi- 
nation of  both  methods  may  secure  the  advantages, 
and  avoid  the  evils  peculiar  to  each.  Such  a  combi- 
nation the  author  attempts ;  and  ho  has  to  a  happy 
extent  succeeded.  In  each  Lecture  is  discussed  and 
illustrated  some  one  type  of  Christian  character,  and 
thus  instruction  is  impressed  upon  the  memory  and 
upon  the  heart. 

The  subjects  treated  are  of  the  highest  importance. 
The  Gospel  is  a  practical  system.  Its  power,  as  such, 
is  developed  in  the  character  of  Christians.  Not  that 
in  any  one  there  is  that  moral  beauty  which  perfect 
conformity  to  the  Gospel  would  impart :  nor  that  the 
state  of  the  Christian  profession  is  a  fair  and  full  ex- 


12  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 

position  of  its  principles  and  tendencies.  But  the 
actual  working  of  the  system,  as  a  poorer  antagonizing 
all  the  forms  of  corruption,  is  exhibited  in  the  fol- 
lowers, and  the  churches,  of  Christ.  And  the  influ- 
ence of  Christianity  upon  mankind,  depends  very  ma- 
terially upon  the  piety  of  Christians. 

The  Gospel  is  a  sanctifying  power.  It  purifies 
wherever  it  controls.  It  is  a  perfect  mould,  which,  so 
far  as  the  heart  is  brought  into  undisturbed  contact 
with  it,  forms  it  into  the  image  of  the  Holy  One.  The 
heart  thus  renewed  will  produce  purity  of  life.  "  By 
their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them."  The  actions  of  men 
are  daguerreotypes  of  the  "  hidden  man  of  the  heart." 
There  may  be  the  assumption  of  character  in  order  to 
deceive.  And  the  hypocrite  may,  perchance,  act  his 
part  with  as  much  verisimilitude  and  success  as  Garrick 
ever  attained  upon  the  stage.  This  fact,  however,  de- 
monstrates, that,  in  the  absence  of  such  detestable 
fraud,  the  life  is  the  heart  revealed.  Were  it  not  for 
the  confidence  that  men  are  what  they  seem  to  be,  there 
would  neither  be  the  power  nor  the  motive  to  de- 
ceive. It  is  vain  to  pretend  to  piety  in  the  neglect  of 
morality.  Such  a  claim  will  not  be  credited.  Nor 
should  it  be.  Grace  does  not  dissolve,  but  sanctify, 
the  union  which  exists  in  nature  between  the  heart 
and  the  life.  "  A  good  man,  out  of  the  good  treasure 
of  the  heart,  bringeth  forth  good  things :  and  an  evil 
man,  out  of  the  evil  treasure,  bringeth  forth  evil  things." 
The  heart  is  the  fountain — the  life,  the  stream  which 
flows  from  it.  The  Gospel  infuses  right  principles, 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY.  13 

imparts  correct  rules  of  conduct,  and  enforces  these 
rules  by  holy  and  powerful  motives.  And  then  only 
has  its  influence  been  realized,  when  both  the  heart 
and  the  life  are  holy. 

Christianity  affects  the  world  mainly  through  the 
piety  of  Christians.  The  Bible  may  be  read  for  the 
information  it  imparts  ;  admired  for  its  simplicity,  its 
purity,  its  beauty  and  sublimity ;  it  may  modify  the 
laws,  and  improve  the  morals  of  society ;  it  may, 
apart  from  example,  occasionally  prove  the  means  of 
salvation ;  but  generally  it  will  be  an  inoperative 
power  when  unaccompanied  by  Christian  influence. 

The  pulpit  is  a  consecrated  place.  The  Author  of 
Salvation  has  ordained  "  by  the  foolishness  of  preach- 
ing to  save  them  that  believe."  But,  if  the  preacher 
be  a  wicked  man,  his  utterances  of  the  truth  are  more 
likely  to  draw  upon  him  the  scorn  of  his  hearers,  than 
to  be  "  the  power  of  God  unto"  their  salvation.  He 
is  as  "  the  abomination  of  desolation  standing  in  the 
holy  place" — a  sign  of  God's  wrath,  rather  than  a 
mensengcr  of  his  mercy. 

The  churches  of  Christ  are  the  divinely  appointed 
agencies  for  the  conversion  of  the  world.  A  pure  and 
devoted  church,  animated  by  tin:  Spirit,  engaged  in  the 
service,  and  reflecting  the  glory  of  the  Redeemer, 
exerts  a  saving  influence  of  great  prevalence  and 
power.  Happy  the  community  where  such  a  church 
exists,  "  for  there  the  Lord  commandcth  the  blessing, 
even  life  for  ever  more."  But  a  church  of  ungodly 
or  clinordcrly  members,  however  Scriptural  their  creed, 


14  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 

however  enthusiastic  their  devotions,  however  earnest 
their  zeal,  is  a  positive  and  serious  injury.  If  they 
make  proselytes,  they  are  apt  to  become  "  two-fold 
more  the  children  of  hell"  than  they  were  hefore. 
Sober,  reflecting  men  will  say,  "  0,  my  soul,  come 
not  thou  into  their  secret ;  unto  their  assembly,  mine 
honor,  be  not  thou  united." 

The  piety  of  a  church  depends  upon  the  piety  of 
the  members.  As  there  is  no  greater  numerical 
strength  than  the  aggregate  of  the  individual  mem- 
bers, so  there  can  be  no  more  of  piety  than  the  con- 
stituents of  the  church  possess.  What  is  possessed 
by  them  is  possessed  by  the  church  — what  is  wanting 
in  them  is  wanting  in  the  church.  And  no  one  is  a 
better  man  by  being  a  church  member  unless  he  is  a 
real  Christian.  On  the  contrary,  such  a  connection, 
in  the  absence  of  a  corresponding  spirit  and  deport- 
ment, is  decidedly  injurious.  It  tends  to  lessen  a 
sense  of  accountability,  and  to  shield  the  conscience 
from  the  shafts  of  truth.  And  it  is  well,  if,  from  the 
sin  of  professing  a  character  to  which  he  is  not  en- 
titled, the  unworthy  member  does  not  advance  to  the 
perpetration  of  open  crime. 

We  fear  that  many  persons  deceive  themselves  at  this 
point.  They  could  illy  bear  to  scrutinize  their  own  char- 
acters. There  is  a  conscious  unholiness  which  causes 
them  to  turn,  instinctively,  from  prayerful  self-exami- 
nation. The  only  aspect  in  which  they  can,  with  any 
composure,  contemplate  themselves,  is  as  members  of 
a  church.  This  relation  imparts  to  them  a  fancied 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY.  15 

sanctity.  Association  with  the  children  of  God,  they 
regard  as  an  evidence  of  their  piety,  and  they  care- 
fully avoid  any  inquiry  into  their  right  to  belong  to 
such  a  fellowship.  The  condition  of  such  an  one  is 
well  nigh  hopeless.  It  is  barely  possible  to  awaken 
him  to  any  adequate  sense  of  his  danger ;  or  to  cause 
him  to  form  any  just  conception  of  his  guilt.  His  sin 
resembles  that  of  Annanias  and  Saphira.  Having 
covenanted  to  give  himself,  and  all  that  he  has  to 
Christ,  he  has  kept  back  not  a  part  only,  but  tlie  whole 
of  the  price. 

There  are  those  who,  though  really  converted,  have 
entered  but  little  into  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel.  They 
are  Christians,  but  they  are  weak  and  sickly  Chris- 
tians. The  religious  life  with  them  is  low,  and  its 
pulsations  are  feeble.  They  have  enough  vitality  to 
preserve  from  putrefaction  but  not  for  vigorous  action. 
Such  claim  our  compassion.  Usually,  they  are  quite 
unhappy.  Their  conscientiousness  interrupts  worldly 
enjoyment,  and  they  have  few  spiritual  pleasures. 
Harrassed  with  doubts,  their  days  are  gloomy,  &^u 
their  nights  are  burdened  with  sighs.  The  influence 
which  they  exert  is  unfavorable  to  piety.  They  pre- 
sent religion  in  a  repulsive  form,  especially  to  the 
young,  the  most  hopeful  subjects  of  Christian  effort. 
The  ardent  and  buoyant  feelings  of  youth  are  shocked 
:md  offended  by  a  religion  so  unsatisfying  and  melan- 
choly. They  arc  unfitted,  too,  for  efficient  labor  in 
the  cause  of  Christ.  Their  attention  is  so  concentra- 


16  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 

ted  upon  themselves,  that  it  is  difficult  to  interest 
them  for  the  welfare  of  others.  And  if  they  do  be- 
come interested,  they  are  so  timid  and  apprehensive  as 
to  cripple  all  their  exertions. 

Others,  again,  have  more  of  spiritual  life,  but  are 
wanting  in  constancy.  When,  from  peculiar  circum- 
stances, they  are  excited,  they  manifest  strong  religious 
feeling,  and  much  interest  for  the  salvation  of  souls. 
But  these  feelings  soon  subside,  and  they  sink  into  a 
state  of  indifference.  Now  it  would  be  difficult  to 
discover  wherein  they  differ  from  the  unconverted. 
They  appear  to  be  as  entirely  engrossed  by  worldly 
cares  as  those  who  make  no  pretensions  to  piety. 
Whatever  time,  or  attention  is  yielded  by  them  to  re- 
ligious duties  seems  to  be  given  with  reluctance. 
Whatever  sacrifice  they  may  make,  it  is  not  the  cheer- 
ful offering  of  a  willing  heart,  but  the  enforced  con- 
tribution of  an  upbraiding  conscience.  Such  incon- 
sistency fatally  obstructs  the  beneficial  influence 
which  they  might  exert.  Besides  the  loss  of  their 
assistance  during  these  periods  of  backsliding,  the 
consistent  friends  of  Christ  have  reason  to  deprecate 
their  attempts  to  do  good  when  they  are  actuated 
by  their  revived  feelings.  A  suspicion  of  their  sin- 
cerity is  induced.  And  they  are  quite  as  likely  to  re- 
pel with  disgust,  as  to  succeed,  when  they  attempt  to 
bring  sinners  to  repentance.  "  Physician,  heal  thy- 
self," may  be  expected  to  be,  if  not  on  every  tongue, 
in  every  mind.  And  men  are  not  willing  to  receive 
reproof  from  those  in  whose  piety  they  do  not  confide. 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY.  17 

An  awakened  sinner  will  distrust  the  counsel  of  one 
whose  religion  he  doubts. 

But  there  are  among  the  disciples  of  Christ,  many 
who  afford  indubitable  evidence  of  piety.  Religion, 
with  them,  is  not  a  name,  or  a  form.  It  is  a  vital, 
active  principle.  Their  lives  clearly  manifest  the 
sanctifying  power  of  the  Gospel.  They  are,  living 
"  epistles ;  known  and  read  of  all  men."  However 
humble,  or  exalted  their  position  in  society,  whatever 
may  be  their  vocation,  they  exert  a  salutary  influence. 
Yet,  not  unfrequently  the  characters  of  those  whose 
piety  no  one  doubts,  are  greatly  injured  by  some  un- 
lovely temper,  or  unamiable  habit,  or  repulsive  ec- 
centricity. "  He  is  a  good  man,  but  I  cannot  love 
him.  He  is  so  morose,  or  haughty,  or  overbearing. — 
I  should  respect  Mr.  A.  very  highly,  were  it  not  for 
that  disagreeable  habit.  I  wonder  that  a  Christian 
will  so  indulge. — Mr.  B.  is  a  pious  man.  What  a 
pity  he  is  so  eccentric." — How  often  do  we  hear  ex- 
pressions like  these.  In  such  cases  "  the  fine  gold 
has  become  dim."  The  attractive  and  assimilating 
power  of  Christian  example  is  counteracted.  Preju- 
dices are  engendered  which  it  may  be  impossible  to  re- 
move— and  occasion  is  afforded  to  the  enemies  of  the 
Gospel  to  vilify  Christian  character. 

ID  the  church,  such  blemishes  are  likely  to  prove  a 
sore  evil.  They  tend  to  weaken  the  affections,  and 
mar  the  enjoyments  of  the  brotherhood.  They  are, 
by  the  nature  of  the  relation,  constantly  obtruded  upon 
their  attention,  and  it  demands  unusual  forbearance 
2 


18  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 

to  prevent  them  from  producing  coolness,  if  not  aliena- 
tion. At  best  they  must  detract  from  the  sweetness 
of  fellowship.  The  communion  of  saints,  demands, 
for  its  full  enjoyment,  the  perfect  likeness  of  Christ. 
Whatever  want  of  this  is  seen  in  any  participant, 
lessens  the  pleasures  of  the  union.  Although  a  for- 
bearing spirit,  strengthened  by  a  sense  of  personal  un- 
worthiness,  may  enable  Christians  to  overlook,  or  to 
tolerate  many  improprieties,  it  is  at  the  expense  of 
that  oneness  of  feeling  which  is  so  precious  to  the  child 
of  God.  We  may  love  notwithstanding  some  evil,  or 
unamiable  characteristic ;  but  we  cannot  so  love  as  we 
should  in  its  absence.  Church  members  sometimes 
complain  that  their  brethren  do  not  love  them.  Would 
it  not  be  well  for  such  to  inquire,  whether,  in  truth, 
they  are  not  unlovely  ?  Christian  affection  naturally 
fixes  upon  those  whose  deportment  is  conformed  to 
"  whatsoever  things  are  pure — lovely — and  of  good  re- 
port." But  if  any  will  be  unkind,  or  factious,  or  dic- 
tatorial, or  morose — if  they  will  not  take  the  pains  to 
be  lovely — let  them  not  complain  if  they  are  not  be- 
loved. 

An  affectionate,  tender  and  earnest  fellowship  in  a 
church  is  of  the  greatest  importance.  It  most  effec- 
tually commends  the  Q-ospel  to  the  confidence  of  man- 
kind. Where  all  are  united  in  one  heart  and  one 
spirit,  each  sharing  the  sorrows  and  the  joys  of  every 
one,  seeking  by  every  kind  attention  to  promote  the 
prosperity  and  happiness  of  all,  and  where  all  concur 
to  maintain  the  purity,  and  advance  the  interests  of 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY.  19 

the  church,  a  spectacle  is  exhibited  upon  which  God 
looks  with  delight,  and  the  world  with  admiration  and 
awe.  Such  a  church  is  indeed  an  Oasis  in  the  desert; 
and  many  weary  travelers  will  there  rest,  and  refresh 
their  tired  spirits.  That  a  Christian  should  interrupt 
such  delightful  harmony  is  most  sad.  Yet,  how  often 
do  those  whom  we  can  but  regard  as  converted  men, 
by  the  want  of  circumspection,  or  self-restraint,  cause 
bitterness  and  contention  in  the  churches !  It  may 
be  doubted  whether  the  larger  proportion  of  strifes 
are  not  produced  by  such.  Hypocrites  and  deluded 
persons  are  not  likely  so  to  gain  the  confidence  of  the 
godly  as  to  enable  them  to  work  the  mischiefs  which  a 
pious,  but  contentious  man  may  effect.  And  surely 
it  is  less  to  be  regretted  when  the  wicked  injure  the 
cause  of  Christ.  "  If  it  were  an  enemy,  then  I  could 
have  borne  it."  To  be  wounded  in  the  house  of  a 
friend,  and  by  the  hand  of  a  friend,  is  a  sore  calamity. 

Whether,  then,  we  contemplate  the  Christian  as  the 
exponent  of  the  practical  power  of  Christianity — as 
the  servant  of  Christ,  sent  forth  to  labor  for  the  salva- 
tion of  meu,  or  aa  a  member  of  a  church  organized  for 
the  conversion  of  the  world,  we  see  the  importance 
of  a  living,  transforming,  earnest  piety.  It  is  an  ab- 
solute necessity.  The  want  of  it  unfits  him  for  every 
duty,  detracts  from  the  practical  influence  of  the  Gos- 
pel, endangers  souls,  and  dishonors  the  Redeemer  ! 

The  churches  are  beginning  to  act  in  the  spirit  of 
Christianity  as  an  aggressive  poorer.  They  are  hoping, 
and  laboring  that  "  the  whole  earth  (may)  be  filled 


20  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 

with  (the)  glory"  of  Messiah.  The  work  before  them 
is  great.  The  struggle  will  be  arduous  and  protracted. 
Every  soldier  of  the  cross  is  needed  in  the  conflict. 
None  should  be  irresolute,  or  inactive.  Fully  equipped 
in  heavenly  armour,  the  entire  "sacramental  host" 
should  go  forth,  "  conquering  and  to  conquer."  How 
needful,  then,  that  from  the  pulpit,  and  the  press, 
those  truths  be  urged  which  are  suited  to  correct  the 
errors,  and  to  increase  the  piety  of  Christians.  God 
grant  that  this  book  may  have  such  an  influence ! 
We  can  wish  no  better  for  either  ourselves,  the  author, 
or  the  readers,  than  that  its  faithful  teachings  may  be 
inscribed  upon  our  hearts,  and  embodied  in  our  lives. 


LECTURE  I. 

LIVING     CHRISTIANS. 

THE  name  "  Christians ,"'  first  given  to  the  disci- 
ples of  Jesus  in  the  city  of  Antioch,  was  probably  of 
divine  origin.*  It  is  appropriate,  and  very  signifi- 
cant. The  admirers  and  pupils  of  distinguished 
teachers  were  called  after  their  names.  The  disci- 
ples of  Plato  were  called  Platonists — those  of  Aristo- 
tle were  called  Aristotelians — and  those  of  Pythago- 
ras were  called  Pythagoreans.  The  disciples  of  Christ 
were  early  styled  Christians.  A  Christian  is  a  fol- 
lower of  Christ — one  who  receives  the  Word,  trusts  in 
the  atonement,  imbibes  the  Spirit,  imitates  the  exam- 
ple, obeys  the  precepts,  espouses  the  cause,  and  honors 
the  name  of  Christ.  Such  is  the  scriptural  import  of 
the  title. 

A  Christian  is  the  highest  style  of  man — the  wisest, 
best,  happiest,  noblest  of  his  race.  "  The  righteous 
is  more  excellent  than  his  neighbor."!  To  the  super- 
ficial observer  this  superiority  may  not  appear ;  but 
it  is  manifest  to  Him  that  searches  the  heart,  and  es- 
timates human  conduct  by  the  principles  from  which 
it  flows,  and  the  motives  by  which  it  is  governed. 

*  Art*  xi  •  28.  f  Prov.  lU    ?(V. 


22  LIVING    CHRISTIANS. 

All  the  splendor  of  royalty,  all  the  achievements  of 
warriors,  all  the  fruits  of  science,  and  all  the  triumphs 
of  genius,  dwindle  to  insignificance  in  comparison 
with  the  moral  attainments,  and  enduring  immunities 
of  the  true  Christian. 

A  faithful  delineation  of  Christian  character — its 
various  excellences  and  defects — cannot  fail  to  interest 
and  profit  the  attentive  and  serious  hearer.  To  this 
object  I  propose  to  devote  a  few  Lectures.  I  shall 
endeavor  concisely  to  describe  several  classes  of  Chris- 
tians, be-ginning  with  the  good,  and  closing  with  the 
defective. 

Under  the  first  general  class,  we  may  place  Living 
Christians,  G-rowing  Christians,  Useful  Christians, 
and  Happy  Christians. 

To  draw  the  character  of  Living  Christians  is  the 
aim  of  the  present  Lecture. 

All  who  are  called  Christians  are  not  Living  Chris- 
tians. Some  have  a  name  that  they  live,  and  are 
dead.*  They  are  Christians  in  profession,  but  in 
spirit  and  practice  they  are  heathen.  They  may,  ik 
deed,  have  the  form  of  Godliness,  but  they  utterly 
deny  its  power.  They  wear  the  garb,  but  possess 
not  the  spirit  of  Christ.  Profession,  if  any  thing  bet- 
ter than  hypocrisy,  succeeds  regeneration.  Without 
faith,  love,  and  devotion,  it  is  not  merely  vain,  but 
offensive  to  God.  It  is  the  garnishing  of  the  sepul- 
chre full  of  bones  and  putrefaction.  It  is  offering  to 

*  Rev  iii:l. 


LIVING    CHRISTIANS.  23 

God  the  halt,  the  maimed,  and  the  blind  in  sacrifice. 
Such  Christians  are  dead  in  the  worst  sense  of  the 
word — "  dead  in  trespasses  and  BIOS'  -  d«:ad  to  God, 
and  heaven.  Their  living  bodies  are  the  sopulchers  of 
lifeless  souls.  But  the  true  Christian  f-.as  life — divine 
life  — eternal  life.  Holiness  is  to  the  soul,  what  life 
is  to  the  body — its  beauty,  enjoyment  and  glory.  This 
invaluable  endowment  every  believer  possesses;  for 
faith  purifies  the  heart.*  "  I  am  crucified,"  he 
may  say,  "  with  Christ ;  nevertheless  I  live  ;  yet  not 
I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me  ;  and  the  life  which  I  now 
live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God, 
who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  me."f 

Living  Christians  are  not  such  by  natural  birth. 
A  man  may  be  born  a  king,  but  not  a  Christian.  He 
may  inherit  a  vigorous  constitution,  beauty,  genius, 
wealth,  and  an  illustrious  name,  but  not  piety  or  grace. 
The  sons  of  God  are  born  "  not  of  blood,  nor  of  the 
flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man."J  "  That  which  is  born 
of  the  flesh  is  flesh. "§  Descent  from  Abraham,  what- 
ever advantages  it  secured  under  tbe  Levitical  econo- 
m}r,  is  a  vain  plea  for  admittance  to  Christian  privi- 
leges. "  Think  not  to  say  within  yourselves,"  said  the 
harbinger  of  Jesus,  to  the  Pharisees  and  SadducccH, 
who  came  to  his  baptism,  "  We  have  Abraham  to  our 
father ;  for  I  say  unto  you,  that  God  is  able  of  these 
stones  to  raise  up  children  unto  Abraham.  rj| 

*  Acts  xv  :  9.  t  Gal.  ii :  20  t  John  \ :  M. 

<i  John  iii :  0.  ||  Mat.  iii  :  0. 


24  LIVING    CHRISTIANS. 

"  Poets  are  such  by  birth  'tis  said, 
Nor  can  by  rules  of  art  be  made  ; 
But  not  by  birth  do  Christians  shine— 
They  are  new  made,  by  e^race  divine." 

Living  Christians  are  not  the  product  of  mere  edu- 
cation. Far  be  it  from  me  to  undervalue  the  reli- 
gious instruction  and  training  of  children.  The  ex- 
perience of  every  year  convinces  me  more  deeply  that 
the  religious  education  of  youth  is  the  great  business 
of  human  life.  There  is  reason  to  hope  that  children 
properly  trained  will  early  become  pious.  The  words 
of  Solomon  express  a  general,  and  most  encouraging 
truth — "  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go  ; 
and  when  he  is  old,  he  will  not  depart  from  it."*  Still 
it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  religious  instruction  ib 
a  means  of  conversion,  not  conversion  itself.  Educa- 
tion may  make  a  mechanic,  a  sailor,  a  philosopher,  an 
orator,  a  statesman,  or  a  nominal  Christian,  but  not  a 
Living  Christian.  It  may  polish  the  exterior,  but 
cannot  change  the  heart.  It  may  reform  the  manners, 
but  cannot  rectify  the  principles.  Something  higher, 
and  deeper,  and  mightier  than  moral  suasion,  and  out- 
ward discipline,  is  demanded  for  man's  moral  renova- 
tion. 

Living  Christians  are  not  made  by  baptism.  "What- 
ever may  be  its  uses,  or  efficacy,  it  is  not  Christen- 
ing— not  making  Christians — not  regeneration.  It 
is  taught  by  very  respectable,  but  not  by  divine  au- 

*  Prov.  xxii :  6. 


LIVING    CHRISTIANS.  25 

thority,  that  by  baptism  infants  are  regenerated,  made 
members  of  the  mystical  body  of  Christ,  and  inheri- 
tors of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  It  is  maintained  by 
a  modern  sect  that  believers  are  made  Christians  by 
baptism.  But  the  Bible  teaches  that  Living  Chris- 
tians are  the  only  proper  subjects  of  this  ordinance. 
Disciples  and  Christians  are  terms  used  interchang- 
ably  in  the  New  Testament.  "  The  disciples  were 
first  called  Christians  at  Antioch."  Disciples  are 
Christians,  and  Christians  are  disciples ;  and  disciples 
— Christians — are  the  only  persons  divinely  required 
to  be  baptized.  "  Jesus  made  and  baptized  more 
disciples  than  John"* — first  made  disciples,  or  Chris- 
tians— no  doubt,  Living  Christians — and  then  bap- 
tized them.  Baptism  is  for  the  living  and  not  for  the 
dead — for  the  regenerate  and  not  for  the  depraved — 
for  Christians  and  not  for  the  enemies  of  Christ. 

Living  Christians  are  such  by  a  divine  and  gracious 
influence.  To  take  away  the  heart  of  stone,  and  give 
a  heart  of  flesh,  is  God's  prerogative.!  Some  things 
man  can  do,  and  some  things  he  cannot.  He  can 
teach,  warn,  entreat,  pray — can  convince  the  under- 
standing, agitate  the  passions,  and  refine  the  man- 
ners— but,  however  pious,  learned  and  eloquent,  he 
cannot  make  the  waters  of  contrition  flow,  subdue  the 
love  of  sin,  nor  kindle  in  the  heart  the  flame  of  love 
and  devotion — in  a  word,  cannot  impart  life  to  the 
soul.  The  living  Christian  is  quickened  of  God — 

*Johniv:  1.  t  Ez.  xxxvl :  20. 


26  LIVING     CHRISTIANS. 

born  of  the  Spirit — made  a  partaker  of  the  divine 
nature — raised  from  the  dead — created  in  Christ 
Jesus  unto  good  works — has  a  hidden  life — possesses 
eternal  life — and  this  life  is  sustained  by  the  exhaust- 
less  fullness  of  Christ  Jesus.* 

Life,  whether  physical  or  spiritual,  is  not  easily  de- 
fined. It  cannot  be  analyzed.  We  are  convinced  of 
its  existence  by  its  effects.  Our  senses  readily  dis- 
tinguish a  living  man  from  a  dead  body,  though  we 
may  be  unable  to  say  in  precisely  what  the  difference 
lies.  The  difference  between  a  Living  and  a  dead 
Christian  is  real,  wide  and  obvious,  whatever  diffi- 
culty there  may  be  in  denning,  with  accuracy  and 
clearness,  its  nature. 

I  cannot,  perhaps,  better  explain  the  nature  of 
spiritual  life  than  by  furnishing  the  experience,  and 
briefly  delineating  the  character  of  brother  LIVELY. 
He  is,  I  trust,  a  Living  Christian;  though  he  is 
very  far  from  setting  himself  up  as  a  model  of  piety. 
I  have  selected  his  case  for  illustration,  partly  because 
I  am  well  acquainted  with  it,  and  partly  because  there 
is  nothing  in  his  exercises,  or  attainments,  to  deter  the 
feeblest  and  most  timid  believer  from  indulging  the 
hope  of  equaling,  or  excelling  him  in  piety. 

I  shall  give  you  the  early  experience  of  brother 
Lively,  as  nearly  as  I  can,  in  his  own  words  ;  and  as 
he  was  fond  of  telling  it,  especially  in  the  com- 
mencement of  his  religious  life,  in  meetings  for  social 
prayer,  I  have  a  pretty  distinct  recollection  of  it. 

*  John  xiv  :  19. 


LIVING     CHRISTIANS.  27 

"  I  was  brought  up,"  this  brother  would  say,  some- 
times with  deep  emotion,  "  in  an  irreligious  family. 
I  never  heard  my  father  pray.  I  was  not  in  my  youth 
acquainted  with  a  single  family  in  which  morning  and 
evening  devotions  were  offered  to  God.  There  were 
no  Sunday  schools,  and  no  religious  tracts  within  my 
reach.  Residing  in  a  sparsely  settled  region,  I  rarely 
heard  the  Gospel  preached  ;  and  much  of  the  preach- 
ing which  I  heard  was  but  little  adapted  to  enlighten, 
impress,  or  interest  the  mind.  My  associates  were, 
with  few  exceptions,  irreligious,  but  not  vicious. 
Literally,  I  may  say,  '  no  man  cared  for  my  soul.'  I 
have  no  recollection  that  any  human  being  ever  spoke 
a  word  to  me  about  my  salvation,  except  my  mother, 
(who  was  not  herself  a  professor  of  religion)  until  I 
evinced  an  anxiety  on  the  subject.  My  mind  was 
early  impressed  with  its  necessity;  but  I  supposed  it 
was  something  too  good  for  me — or  that  I  must 
patiently  wait  until  God,  in  his  own  good  time  and 
•way,  should  be  pleased  to  convert  me. 

"  I  was  brought  up  on  a  farm.  When  about  seven- 
teen years  old,  I  was  ploughing  alone.  Suddenly,  I 
knew  not  why,  I  began  to  think  of  God.  While  I 
meditated  on  his  goodness,  greatness,  and  all-pervad- 
ing presence,  my  mind  became  so  deeply  impressed 
with  my  responsibility  to  him,  my  sinfulness,  and  my 
entire  dependence  on  him,  that  I  trembled  in  every 
joint,  and  the  tears  flowed  profusely  down  my  cheeks. 
I  bowed  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  between  the  han- 
dles of  the  plough,  to  offer  prayer  to  God.  After  a 


28  LIVING   CHRISTIANS. 

short  time  the  tempest  of  emotion  subsided,  and  the 
pride  of  my  heart  began  to  show  itself.  I  knew  that 
no  human  being  had  seen  me  in  prayer,  and  yet  I  felt 
ashamed — ashamed  that  even  God  should  have  heard 
me  pray.  My  impressions  did  not,  however,  quickly 
vanish.  I  continued  for  some  weeks  to  pray,  and 
grew  self-righteous.  I  began  to  think  myself  very 
good — not,  indeed,  converted,  but  almost  good  enough 
to  be.  On  my  companions,  who  were  thoughtless  and 
worldly,  I  could  but  look  down  with  sincere  pity. 
Gradually  my  impressions  became  feebler,  and  my 
prayers  more  infrequent,  until  I  relapsed  into  my 
former  apathy  and  worldliness.  Often,  however,  my 
conscience  would  trouble  me.  I  felt  that  all  was  not  well 
within.  I  dared  not  to  think  of  death  and  judgment. 
The  death  of  an  acquaintance,  an  earnest  sermon,  any 
religious  book  or  tract,  which  might  chance  to  fall  in 
my  way,  would  quicken  my  conscience,  rouse  my  fears, 
and  set  me  on  a  course  of  self-righteous  labors.  Of 
the  plan  of  salvation  I  had  no  knowledge.  All  my 
conceptions  on  the  subject  of  religion  were  exceed- 
ingly crude  and  superstitious.  But  the  time  ap- 
proached when,  through  the  mercy  of  God,  I  was  to  re- 
ceive light  and  peace. 

"  A  meeting  of  several  days'  continuance  was  ap- 
pointed to  be  held  in  the  neighborhood  where  I  re- 
sided. The  churches  had  passed  through  a  long, 
wintry  season ;  but  the  faithful  laborers  in  the  Lord's 
vineyard  began  to  see  signs  of  approaching  spring. 
On  the  third  and  last  day  of  the  meeting,  a  glorious 


LIVING   CHRISTIANS.  29 

revival  commenced.  I  was  among  the  first  who  felt 
the  power  of  divine  truth.  I  had  often  listened  to 
the  same  ministers  preaching  the  same  truth  ;  but.  it 
had  a  light  and  power  which  made  it  appear  to  me 
entirely  new.  I  had  never  heard  such  preaching  be- 
fore. It  seemed  to  search  and  penetrate  my  inmost 
soul.  Many  were  as  deeply  affected  by  it  as  I  was. 
I  left  the  meeting  fully  resolved  to  become  religious 
as  soon  as  possible ;  nor  did  I  doubt  my  ability  to 
carry  out  my  resolution.  Indeed,  I  possessed  an  am- 
bitious desire  to  outstrip  my  young  companions,  many 
of  whom  seemed  inclined  to  enter  on  the  Christian  race. 
I  supposed  I  must  make  myself  good  enough  for  God 
to  convert  me,  and  entered  earnestly  on  a  course  of 
self-reformation.  I  abandoned  all  my  known  sins — 
meditated  incessantly  on  the  subject  of  religion — 
prayed  often  —  wept  much  —  attended  all  religious 
meetings  within  my  reach,  which  were  now  greatly 
multiplied — at  my  own  request  was  made  the  subject 
of  special  prayer — and,  for  a  short  time,  I  seemed  to 
be  making  very  satisfactory  progress  towards  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  I  deemed  myself  almost  good 
enough  to  be  saved.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before 
I  began  to  discover  the  depravity  of  my  heart. 
Surely,  no  poor  wretch  was  ever  more  distressingly 
exercised  than  I  was,  for  a  season,  with  the  corruptions 
of  his  nature.  My  heart  seemed  to  be  full  of  pride, 
selfishness,  enmity  against  God,  and  especially  deceit, 
which  appeared  to  mingle  with  all  my  efforts  to  be- 
come religious.  Thoughts,  foolish,  impure,  and  bias- 


30  LIVING    CHRISTIANS. 

phemous,  such  as  I  had  never  been  conscious  of  be- 
fore, were  constantly  haunting  niy  mind.  My  heart, 
which  at  first  was  tender,  became  as  hard  as  a  stone. 
Neither  the  love  of  Christ,  the  joys  of  heaven,  nor  the 
terrors  of  death  and  hell,  could  move  it.  The  fountain 
of  my  tears  was  sealed  up.  If  my  salvation  had  been 
suspended  upon  my  weeping,  I  could  not  have  wept. 
My  prayers  were  but  a  chattering  noise,  the  babblings 
of  a  confused  brain,  without  faith,  and  without  fer- 
vor. I  now  almost  despaired  of  salvation.  I  seemed 
to  mj  self  much  farther  from  conversion  than  I  was  in 
the  beginning  of  my  exercises.  I  knew  not  what  to 
do.  To  advance  I  could  not ;  to  return  I  had  no  de- 
sire. My  ambitious  hope  of  out-running  my  compan- 
ions was  slain.  I  saw  and  felt  that  my  condemna- 
tion before  God  was  just. 

In  this  state  of  mind,  I  attended  a  religious  meet- 
ing. A  song  was  sung  which  described  the  sufferings 
of  Christ.  The  poetry  was  bad,  but  the  sentiment 
was  evangelical,  and  made  a  deep  impression  on  my 
mind.  I  thought  of  the  Saviour's  love,  and  sufferings, 
and  death ;  and  I  asked  myself,  Did  the  Son  of  God 
endure  all  this  for  me  ?  It  seemed  impossible.  The 
mercy  was  too  great  for  me.  I  was  undeserving  such 
favor,  and  ought  hardly  to  receive  it,  if  I  might. 
While  I  was  musing  my  heart  dissolved,  and  my  eyes, 
so  long  dry,  poured  out  streams  of  tears.  If  I  have 
ever  known  what  sorrow  was,  I  felt  the  deepest  sorrow 
that  I  had  offended  and  dishonored  the  greatest  and 
best  of  Beings — my  true  and  only  Friend.  Then  I 


LIVING    CHRISTIANS.  31 

hated  my  sins,  and  felt  resolved,  that,  whether  I  was 
saved  or  lost,  I  would  endeavor  to  sin  no  more.  Then, 
I  thiiik,  I  began  to  be  a  peuitent.  Still  an  impene- 
trable cloud  concealed  from  my  mind  the  scheme  of 
salvation. 

"  A  few  days  after  this,  I  attended  a  meeting  many 
miles  from  my  place  of  residence.  At  night  I  enjoyed 
the  hospitality  of  a  good  man  who  lived  near  the 
mcetiug-placc,  and  at  whose  house,  according  to  the 
custom  of  the  country,  an  evening  service  was  held. 
The  congregation  had  assembled,  and  the  religious 
exercises  had  commenced.  My  own  miiid  was  ab- 
sorbed in  meditation  on  my  lost  and  wretched  condi- 
tion. A  godly  and  excellent  minister,  who  evinced  a 
deep  concern  for  my  salvation,  had,  repeatedly  and  most 
affectionately,  pointed  me  to  Christ,  as  the  all-suffi- 
cient Saviour,  and  urged  me  to  believe  in  him.  To 
assist  my  faith,  he  had  cited  the  words,  '  Lord,  I  be- 
lieve ;  help  thou  my  unbelief.'*  If  1  were  to  say  a 
thousand  times  I  endeavored  to  utter  the  words,  I  do 
not  think  I  should  speak  extravagantly  :  but  I  could 
not,  I  dared  not  utter  them.  I  feared  I  should  be 
adding  to  all  my  other  sins  the  f-ln  of  hypocrisy. 
What  it  was  to  believe  I  could  not  comprehend.  To 
me  it  seemed  that  I  might  as  well  attempt  to  make  a 
world  as  exercise  faith.  On  the  evening  referred  to, 
a  new  feeling  pervaded  my  heart.  I  felt  that  I  eould 
believe  in  Christ ;  and  I  mentally  said,  not  as  I  had 

*  Mat.  is:  1M. 


32  LIVING    CHRISTIANS. 

often  said,  '  Lord,  I  would  believe,'  but,  '  Lord,  I 
believe;  help  thou  my  unbelief.'  Instantly  rny  heart 
smote  me  for  uttering  a  falsehood.  This  could  not 
be  faith.  It  was  too  simple.  It  bore  no  resemblance 
to  the  faith  -which  I  had  been  laboring  to  exercise. 
If  this  is  faith,  thought  I,  I  might  as  well  have  be- 
lieved a  month  ago.  While  I  was  thus  meditating, 
the  impression  on  my  mind  became  stronger,  and  I 
repeated  the  words,  with  emphasis,  '  Lord,  I  do  be- 
lieve ;  help  thou  my  unbelief.'  I  had  no  new  light, 
BO  strong  impulse,  but  I  felt  a  firm,  calm,  sweet,  in- 
spiring confidence  in  Christ.  My  heart  was  humbled, 
subdued,  penitent.  I  had  such  a  persuasion  of  the 
wisdom,  mercy,  and  power  of  Christ,  that  I  was  per- 
fectly willing  to  commit  my  soul  to  his  hands.  My 
burden  of  guilt,  my  fear,  my  anxiety,  were  all  gone. 
For  many  weeks  my  sleep  had  been  disturbed  and 
restless  :  that  night  I  laid  down  and  slept,  as  if  I  had 
been  In  Paradise. 

"  In  the  morning,  I  arose.  It  was  a  bright,  autum- 
nal morning.  I  walked  into  the  open  air.  The  sur- 
rounding scenery  was  beautiful  and  grand.  The 
towering  mountains,  of  various  forms,  and  in  every 
direction,  were  covered  with  the  gay  and  variegated 
livery  of  October.  Never  had  creation  seemed  to  me 
so  charming.  Every  thing  was  full  of  God.  The 
mountains  and  the  hills  broke  forth  into  singing,  and 
all  the  trees  of  the  forest  clapped  their  hands.  The 
grass  that  sprang  at  my  feet  proclaimed  the  power  and 
goodness  of  the  Lord.  Never  had  I  listened  to  such 


LIVING   CHRISTIANS.  33 

a  symphony  of  praise ;  and  iny  poor  heart,  long  bruised 
and  burdened,  spontaneously  joined  in  the  grateful 
homage.  I  chid  myself  that  I,  a  sinner,  condemned, 
and  possibly  abandoned  to  destruction,  should  have 
the  madness  to  offer  praise  to  God.  But  the  deep 
feeling  of  my  heart  was  not  to  be  repressed  by  the 
cold  surrnisings  of  scepticism.  To  all  these  doubts 
my  heart  replied,  What  if  I  am  a  sinner,  condemned 
and  doomed  to  hell,  shall  I  not  praise  God  that  I  am 
not  now  there,  and  that  I  have  enjoyed  so  many  mer- 
cies at  his  hands  ? 

"  I  retired  to  the  forest,  and  in  a  deep  and  secluded 
ravine,  bowed  my  knees  to  pray.  I  had  never  before  of- 
fered a  prayer  for  any  being  except  myself.  I  soon 
found  my  heart  irresistibly  drawn  out  to  offer  prayer  for 
my  parents — my  sisters  and  brothers — my  widening 
circle  of  kindred — my  unconverted  companions  and 
acquaintances — and  still  my  petitions  \verc  enlarged, 
until  they  embraced  the  whole  world.  I  was  a  wonder 
to  myself.  Setting  my  face  toward  the  abode  of  my 
hospitable  friend,  I  soon  met  the  venerated  minister, 
whose  labors  had  contributed  most  to  my  guidance 
and  encouragement.  Having  marked  the  change  in 
my  countenance,  he  kindly  inquired  after  the  state  of 
my  mind.  I  most  gladly  revealed  to  him  my  exer- 
cises. After  hearing  my  statements,  he  said,  with  a 
smile,  '  You  arc  converted.'  I  knew  not  whether  I 
was  more  astonished  or  delighted  at  the  remark.  The 
thought  that  I  was  converted  hud  not  so  much  as 
entered  my  head.  This  was  not  the  conversion  for 


34  LIVING    CHRISTIANS. 

which  I  had  been  long  seeking.  I  had  expected,  mis- 
guided, I  know  not  how,  to  feel  a  sudden  shock — to 
have  some  wonderful  manifestation — to  experience 
Borne  mysterious  transformation — and  I  had  only 
found  a  calm,  confiding,  loving,  obedient,  and  joyous 
spirit.  I  sought  the  Lord  in  the  tempest,  the  fire,  and 
the  earthquake  ;  but,  lo  !  I  found  him,  if  I  had  found 
him  at  all,  '  in  the  still  small  voice.'  " 

Here  I  must  drop  the  experience  of  brother  Lively. 
He  came  to  the  conclusion,  not  from  the  judgment  of  his 
devoted  pastor,  but  from  a  comparison  of  his  experience 
with  the  word  of  God,  that  he  had  "  passed  from  death 
unto  life."  In  that  conclusion  we  may  charitably  con- 
cur. There  is  in  various  respects  a  resemblance  be- 
tween natural  and  spiritual  life — between  a  living  man 
and  a  Living  Christian.  The  properties  of  physical 
life  may  be  aptly  employed  to  illustrate  the  nature  of 
spiritual  life. 

Is  sensibility  a  sign  of  life  ?  The  spiritual  sensi- 
bility of  brother  Lively  indicates  that  he  possesses 
life.  Divine  truth  makes  suitable  and  abiding  im- 
pressions on  his  heart.  He  believes  when  God  af- 
firms, trusts  when  God  promises,  trembles  when  God 
threatens,  and  accords  a  cheerful  obedience  when  God 
commands.  By  God's  providences,  he  ia  filled  with 
adoring  gratitude,  or  humble  submission,  as  they  are 
gracious  or  afflictive.  He  remembers  his  sins  and  im- 
perfections with  unfeigned  contritior  and  self-abase- 
ment; and  joyfully  contemplates  the  ample  provision 
made  by  Christ  for  the  salvation  and  eternal  blessed- 


LIVING    CHRISTIANS.  35 

ness  of  them  that  trust  in  him.  His  spiritual  sensi- 
bility, if  I  may  be  permitted  to  use  the  phrase,  marks 
him  out  as  one  that  has  "  passed  from  death  unto 
life." 

Is  breath  a  mark  of  vitality  ? 

"  Prayer  is  the  Christian's  vital  breath, 
The  Christian's  native  air." 

He  that  lives  without  prayer  lives  without  God.  That 
sincere,  believing  prayer  is  an  element  of  true  piety 
needs  no  proof.  The  spiritual  life  can  no  more  be 
sustained  without  prayer  than  the  physical  without 
breath. 

"  Lon£j  as  they  live  should  Christians  pray, 
For  only  while  they  pray  they  live." 

Brother  Lively  is  a  man  of  prayer.  In  his  closet — 
in  his  family — in  the  meetings  for  social  worship — he 
prays,  and  loves  to  pray.  He  does  not  always  enjoy 
in  the  same  degree  "  the  spirit  of  grace  and  of  sup- 
plications," but  he  would  ever  consider  it  a  great 
calamity  to  be  deprived  of  the  privilege  of  coming 
boldly  unto  the  tlironc  of  grace,  that  he  "  may  ob- 
tain mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need." 

Is  appetite  a  sign  of  life?  God  has  made  the  preser- 
vation of  every  kind  of  life,  of  whi?h  we  havo  any 
knowledge,  to  depend  on  nutrition.  Vegetable  life  is 
nourished  by  the  soil,  the  air,  moisture  and  light ;  and 
animal  life  by  food  and  drink.  (jud's  word — divine 
truth — is  the  appointed  nutriment  of  the  spiritual 


36  LIVING     CIIIllSTIANS. 

man.  Brother  Lively  hungers  for  this  food.  As  a 
new  born  babe,  he  desires  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word, 
that  he  may  grow  thereby.*  No  infant  ever  more 
naturally  and  earnestly  desired  the  milk  from  its 
mother's  breast,  than  he  desires  his  appointed  nourish- 
ment. He  hungers  and  thirsts  after  righteousness,  and 
is  equally  concerned  to  enjoy  the  means  of  its  attain- 
ment. As  the  hunted  hart,  weary  and  exhausted, 
pants  after  the  cooling  brook,  so  he  pants  after  God — 
the  living  God.f  And  brother  Lively  furnishes  this 
proof  that  he  loves  the  word  of  God — he  reads, 
studies,  and  obeys  it — makes  it  his  sword  and  shield 
in  battle,  his  staff  in  the  journey  of  life,  his  light  in 
darkness,  and  his  solace  in  affliction. 

Is  activity  an  indication  of  life?  Brother  Lively 
is  an  active  Christian.  His  faith  is  not  a  barren 
speculation,  but  a  deep,  vital,  fruitful  principle.  His 
ardent  emotions  do  not  evaporate  in  good  wishes,  and 
fair  words.  He  lives  not  for  himself;  seeks  not 
mainly  his  own  interest,  gratification  or  glory.  Having 
been  redeemed  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  sanctified 
by  the  spirit  of  grace,  he  is  constrained  to  present  his 
body — himself — "  a  living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable 
to  God,"  which  he  deems  his  "  reasonable  service."! 
Had  he  ten  thousand  hearts,  ten  thousand  lives,  ten 
thousand  worlds,  he  would  give  them  all  to  Christ,  and 
feel  that  his  debt  of  gratitude  was  in  no  degree 
diminished.  Such,  at  least,  were  the  feelings,  pur- 

*  1  Peter  ii :  2.          f  Psa-  xlii :  '*•  \  Rom.  xii :  1. 


LIVING    CHRISTIANS.  37 

poses  and  vows  of  this  brother  at  the  time  of  his 
espousal  to  Christ ;  and  though,  in  subsequent  life, 
amid  the  chilling  influences,  and  seductive  fascinations 
of  the  world,  he  may  have  failed  to  realize  his  early 
hopes,  and  fulfill  his  early  promise,  yet  in  his  coldest, 
darkest  hours,  he  has  "  pressed  toward  the  mark  for 
the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus."* 
I  will  close  this  lecture  with  two  or  three  remarks — • 
1.  An  experience — a  Christian  experience,'^  essen- 
tial to  the  existence  of  living  piety.  There  may,  in- 
deed, be  a  profession  of  religion — a  form  of  godli- 
ness— a  heartless  orthodoxy — without  any  exercises 
deserving  the  name  of  Christian  experience.  I  am 
aware  that  there  are  not  a  few  religionists  who  look 
on  religious  experience  as  the  imaginings  of  a  weak, 
or  the  pretences  of  a  corrupt  mind.  But  can  a  man 
pass  "  from  death  unto  life''f — have  the  eyes  of  his 
understanding  enlightened]: — and  be  "created  in 
Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works''^ — and  not  have  an 
experience — differing  not  merely  in  degree,  but  kind, 
from  ajiy  tiling  ever  felt  by  tlio  "  natural  man  ?"  lie 
mav,  indeed,  be  ignorant  of  the  precise  time  of  his 
conversion,  or  he  may  doubt  whether  his  exercises 
have  been  of  a  gracious  character;  but  he  knows,  and 
cannot  but  know,  that  his  emotions  have  been  various, 
deep,  and  influential.  He  could  as  soon  doubt  his 
existence,  or  renounce  his  hope  of  salvation,  as  his  ex- 
perience. 

MM.il.  iii:  11.     tJno.  iii:   11.     M-  ;••!.  i :   18.     ^  Kpli.  ii :   10. 


3d  LIVING     CHRISTIANS. 

2.  We  should  carefully  distinguish  between  what  ia 
essential  and  what  is  circumstantial  in  Christian 
experience.  Much  has  improperly  passed  under  this 
name.  The  dreams  of  the  ignorant,  the  fancies  of  the 
enthusiastic,  the  speculations  of  the  curious,  the  illu- 
sions of  the  superstitious,  and  all  these  mingled  in 
every  conceivable  variety,  have  been  called  Christian  ex 
perience,  and  have,  by  their  bitter  fruits,  brought  suspi- 
cion and  reproach  on  the  genuine  article.  Every  good 
thing  is  liable  to  be  counterfeited ;  and  Christian  ex- 
perience would  lack  one  mark  of  excellence  if  it  was 
exempted  from  this  law.  All  that  glitters  is  not 
gold;  yet  there  is  gold,  "yea,  fine  gold."  It  is  not 
unfrequently  found,  too,  that  genuine  experience  is 
mixed  with  much  that  is  fanciful,  extravagant  and  per- 
nicious. The  experiences  of  well  instructed  Christians 
frequently  differ  widely.  They  are  greatly  modified 
by  temperament,  early  training,  and  other  circum- 
stances. The  experience  of  no  two  believers  is  pre- 
cisely the  same.  Some  are  converted  suddenly,  others 
by  a  long  and  tedious  process — in  some  the  under- 
standing is  more  exercised,  in  others  the  emotions — 
some  embrace  Christ  with  strong,  unwavering  confi- 
dence, others  with  trembling  and  hesitation — some  are 
filled  with  love,  gratitude  and  joy,  others  with  doubts, 
fears  and  anxiety — and  these  exercises  are  combined 
in  every  imaginable  diversit}-.  But  still  there  nre 
certain  points  found  in  the  experience  of  every  Living 
Christian.  Convictions  of  sin — a  sense  of  the  jus- 
tice of  condemnation — godly  sorrow — the  hearty  re- 


LIVING     CHRISTIANS.  39 

nunciation  of  sin — trust  in  Christ  for  salvation — hu- 
mility, gratitude,  love,  obedience — the  hope  of  eternal 
life — these  are  the  essential  elements  of  piety,  and 
they  exist,  in  various  proportions,  and  combinations, 
in  every  vital  Christian.  The  time — the  place — the 
circumstances  of  conversion  are  of  little  moment,  pro- 
vided the  great,  saving  change  has  taken  place  in  the 
conscious,  willing,  responsible  and  deathless'spirit — a 
change  controlling  the  outward,  as  well  as  the  inward 
man. 

3.  No  experience  should  be  deemed  genuine  which 
does  not  lead  to  a  steady,  persevering  life  of  piety. 
No  measure  of  knowledge — no  boasted  orthodoxy — 
no  intensity  of  feelings — can  be  a  substitute  for  the 
"  fruits  of  righteousness."  If  the  tree  be  good,  the 
fruit  will  be  good.  The  gracious  influence,  by  which 
experience  is  produced,  is  designed  and  suited  to  make 
men  self-denying,  patient,  holy,  heavenly;  and  when 
these  fruits  arc  not  produced  it  has  not  been  exerted. 
"  I  am  the  vine,"  said  Jesus  to  his  disciples,  "ye  arc 
the  branches  :  he  that  abideth  in  me,  and  I  in  him, 
the  same  bringcth  forth  much  fruit;  for  without  mo 
yc  can  do  nothing.  If  a  man  abide  not  in  me,  he  is 
cast  forth  as  a  branch,  and  withered  :  and  men  gather 
them  and  cast  them  into  the  fire,  and  they  art? 
burned."* 

*  J(.lil)    XV  ;   5-6. 


LECTURE  II. 

GROWING     CHRISTIANS. 

I  DEVOTE  the  Lecture  of  this  evening  to  the  deline- 
ation of  Growing  Christians. 

There  is  through  the  whole  extent  of  living  beings 
a  tendency  to  growth,  enlargement,  and  maturity. 
We  perceive  it  in  the  vegetable,  animal  and  intellec- 
tual kingdoms.  By  the  established  law  of  growth 
and  progress,  the  twig  becomes  a  tree,  the  child  a 
man,  and  the  novice  a  philosopher.  The  same  law 
prevails  in  the  moral  kingdom. 

On  this  principle,  bad  men  grow  worse.  Their  evil 
propensities  are  strengthened  by  indulgence;  their 
sinful  practices  are  gradually  changed  into  habits  ; 
and  their  unrestrained  habits  become  more  inveterate 
and  uncontrollable.  "  Evil  men  and  seducers  shall 
wax  worse  and  worse,  deceiving  and  being  deceived."* 
By  the  same  principle,  good  men  grow  better.  "  The 
path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light,  that  shineth 
more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day."f  Christians 
are  exhorted  to  "grow  in  grace" — or  moral  excellence 
and  beauty  ;  and  this  required  increase  is  illustrated 
by  the  growth  in  nature.  As  in  the  vegetable  so  in 
the  spiritual  kingdom,  there  is  "  first  the  blade,  then 

*  2  Tim.  iii :  13.  t  Prov.  iv  :  15. 


GROWING    CHRISTIANS.  41 

the  ear,  after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear."*  We 
have,  in  the  kingdom  of  grace,  as  in  the  kingdom  of 
nature,  "  little  children  " — "  young  men  " — and  "  fa- 
thers;" and  these  expressions  are  descriptive  of  Chris- 
tians in  different  stages  of  their  increase  and  matu- 
rity.! 

The  growth  of  Christians  consists — 

1.  In  an  increase  of  Knowledge.  "  Grow  in  the 
knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ, "J 
is  the  precept  of  an  inspired  apostle.  The  knowledge 
of  a  sound,  active  mind,  is  necessarily  progressive. 
Observation  and  experience  constantly  increase  the 
stock  of  its  ideas,  and  extend  the  range  of  its  vision. 
The  young  convert,  even  if  he  has  been  favored  with 
careful  religious  training,  possesses  but  comparatively 
little  knowledge.  His  state  is  characterized  by  feel- 
iug,  rather  than  light :  but  he  has,  in  some  degree, 
learned  the  "  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ 
Jesus."  lie  is  not  wise  in  his  own  conceit,  but  con- 
scious of  his  ignorance  and  fallibility.  He  prizes  the 
knowledge  of  divine  things  above  silver  and  gold,  and 
earnestly  seeks  for  it  as  for  hid  treasure.  He  studies 
the  workings  of  his  own  heart,  as  well  as  the  word  and 
ways  of  God.  He  becomes  better  acquainted  with 
himself;  his  weakness,  poverty,  and  unworthiuess ; 
his  temptations,  dangers,  and  necessities.  And  as  he 
learns  more  of  his  own  insufficiency  and  wretchedness,  ho 
perceives  more  clearly,  and  appreciates  more  fully  the 

*  Mat.  iv :  20-28.  t  -Trio,  ii :  13.          \  I'ct.  iii  ;  18. 


42  GROWING    CHRISTIANS. 

suitableness,  freeness,  and  glory  of  bis  Redeemer. 
His  views  of  divine  tbings  become  more  clear,  consis- 
tent, and  satisfactory.  Attaining  to  full  age,  be 
bas  bis  senses  exercised  to  discern  botb  good  and 
evil. 

2.  An  increase  of  Holiness.  In  tbe  young  convert 
tbe  work  of  sanctification  is  only  commenced.  His 
principles,  desires,  and  aims  are  boly;  be  is  sincere, 
conscientious,  and  ardent ;  but  be  is  far  from  being 
perfect.  His  feelings  are  variable,  bis  zeal  is  not  tem- 
pered by  discretion,  and  bis  piety  is  witbout  symme- 
try. But  in  tbe  growing  Christian  all  tbe  elements 
of  moral  goodness  are  increased.  His  "  faitb  groweth 
exceedingly;"  he  "abounds  inbope,  tbrougbtbe  power 
of  tbe  Holy  Ghost;"  above  all  things,  he  puts  on 
"  charity,  which  is  the  bond  of  perfectness ;"  as  be 
rises  in  piety,  be  sinks  in  humility ;  by  degrees,  be 
acquires  a  more  perfect  control  of  bis  appetites  and 
passions ;  as  he  learns  more  of  his  own  heart,  he  be- 
comes more  watchful  against  temptation;  and  as  be 
feels  more  deeply  bis  own  weakness,  he  becomes  more 
fervent  and  constant  in  prayer.  As  the  members  of 
tbe  body,  so  tbe  graces  of  tbe  soul  gain  strength  and 
consistency  from  exercise. 

Am  la  Growing  Christian  ?  I  propose  to  notice 
some  of  tbe  signs  by  which  a  growing  Christian  is  dis- 
tinguished. I  name — 

1.  He  is  dissatisfied  with  his  religious  attainments. 
It  is  not  tbe  growing,  but  tbe  luke-warm  Christian, 
who  says — "  I  am  rich,  and  increased  with  goods,  and 


GROWING    CHRISTIANS.  43 

have  need  of  nothing."*  It  was  not  the  contrite  pub- 
lican, but  the  self-righteous  pharisee,  who  said — "  God, 
I  thauk  thee  that  I  am  not  as  other  men  are."f  A 
diligent,  faithful  Christian  may  make  high  attainments 
in  the  divine  life.  His  knowledge  may  be  compre- 
hensive, thorough  and  efficacious ;  his  experience  of 
divine  things  deep,  varied  and  abiding;  his  deport- 
ment a  shining  commentary  on  the  truth  and  efficacy 
of  the  Gospel;  and,  in  fine,  he  may  be  a  Christian, 
whom  an  inspired  apostle  would  describe  as  "  a  dearly 
beloved  brother;"  but  he  can  never  attain  to  a  point 
at  which  he  is  content  to  stop.  He,  who  has  reached 
the  mountain-top,  has  missed  the  road  to  Heaven. 
This  road  lies  through  the  vale  of  humility  and  self- 
abasement.  A  man  who  desires  no  higher  religious 
attainments  has  yet  to  learn  the  first  principles  of 
piety.  The  apostle  Paul  was  not  merely  a  growing, 
but  a  well-grown  Christian.  In  vain  may  we  expect 
to  find  his  equal,  not  to  say  in  gifts,  labors,  and  use- 
fulness, but  in  all  the  elements  of  moral  goodness  and 
greatness;  in  faith,  humility,  disinterestedness  and 
heroism  ;  and  yet  this  distinguished  man  laid  no  claim 
to  perfection.  "  Not,"  said  he,  "  as  though  I  had  al- 
ready attained,  either  were  already  perfect. "J  Let 
every  professing  Christian  then  understand  that,  if  lie 
i.s  satisfied  with  his  present  attainments,  whatever  else 
he  may  be,  he  is  not  a  Growing  Christian. 
2.  Thr-  Growing  Christian  earnestly  desires  an  in- 

*  Rev.  iii  :   17  |  I-rik»:  xviii  :   11.          t  I''1''-  ''' :  !-• 


44  GROWING     CHRISTIANS. 

crease  of  holiness.  He  perceives  its  beauty,  excel- 
lence and  importance ;  and  that  he  can  neither  be 
happy,  nor  safe,  nor  useful,  without  it.  He  relishes, 
longs  for  it,  as  the  weary,  thirsty  traveler  for  water. 
He  may  desire  many  things ;  but  he  desires  nothing  so 
much  as  grace.  Nothing  else  can  satisfy  him.  This 
is  the  craving  of  his  spiritual  nature ;  and  it  can  no 
more  be  satisfied  with  secular  good,  than  a  starving 
man  can  be  with  gold,  or  a  man  dying  of  the  gout,  with 
music.  The  apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  far  from  being  con- 
tent with  his  spiritual  attainments,  anxiously,  earnestly 
and  diligently  sought  a  higher  measure  of  holiness. 
"  I  press,"  these  are  his  emphatic  words — "  I  press 
towards  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus."*  That  mark  is  perfection  ; 
and  that  pressing  was  the  earnest  struggle  of  the 
apostle  to  reach  it.  Those  who  fervently  desire  an 
increase  of  holiness  are  sure  not  to  be  disappointed. 
If  we  desire  wealth,  or  honor,  or  health,  or  any  earthly 
good,  God,  in  wisdom  and  kindness,  may  withhold  it 
from  us  ;  but  if  we  desire  religious  growth  and  ma- 
turity, he  will  delight  to  gratify  us.  They  that  hunger 
and  thirst  after  righteousness  shall  be  filled. f  "  If 
thou  eeekest  her" — wisdom — another  name  for  holi- 
ness— "  as  silver,  and  searchest  for  her  as  hid  trea- 
sure ;  then  shalt  thou  understand  the  fear  of  the 
Lord  arid  find  the  knowledge  of  God."|  In  the 
absence  of  this  desire — this  longing  after  holiness, 

*  Phil,  iii :  14.  f  Mat-  v :  6.  t  Prov.  ii ;  14. 


GROWING     CHRISTIANS.  45 

there  can  "be  no  spiritual  growth.  As  well  might  the 
outward  man  thrive  and  strengthen  without  appe- 
tite or  food,  as  the  inward  man  be  renewed  and  in- 
vigorated without  the  thirst  for  holiness,  and  the  ap- 
propriate means  of  its  indulgence. 

3.  TJtere  is  an  increasing  spirituality  in  the  reli- 
gious exercises  of  a  Grounng  Christian.  The  danger 
of  most  Christians  is  not  that  of  indulging  in  gross  im- 
morality, or  wholly  neglecting  the  forms  of  religion. 
From  these  evils  they  are  restrained  by  a  regard  to 
consistency,  their  reputation  in  the  world,  and  their 
standing  in  the  church.  They  know  that  profanity, 
intemperance  or  dishonesty  would  subject  them,  not 
only  to  exclusion  from  church  privileges,  but  to  the 
charges  of  hypocrisy  or  apostacy,  and  the  scorn  of 
virtuous  men ;  and  they  recoil  from  these  conse- 
quences. But  professing  Christians  may  substitute 
the  form  for  the  spirit  of  godliness  without  serious 
risk  of  exclusion  from  the  church,  or  reproach  from 
the  world  ;  nay,  this  very  heartlessness  mfty  be  com- 
mended by  a  respectable  class  of  religionists  as  free- 
dom from  enthusiasm,  and  a  proof  of  manly  sense. 
This  formality  is  the  besetting  sin  of  Christians.  We 
perceive  it  in  the  coldness  of  their  devotions,  their  ne- 
glect of  religious  duties,  and  the  worldlincss  of  their 
spirit  and  conversation.  This  evil  is  insidious,  pre- 
valent and  pernicious — the  reproacli  of  the  church, 
and  the  stumbling  block  of  the  world ;  but  from  it 
the  growing  Christian  is  exempt.  He  serves  Christ 
with  increasing  spirituality  and  life.  As  he  learns 


46  GROWING    CHRISTIANS. 

more  of  Christ,  he  loves  him  more  fervently  ;  and  as 
he  loves  him  more  fervently,  he  serves  him  more  joy- 
fully. The  word  of  Christ  is  his  meditation  and  de- 
light ;  prayer  is  the  very  breathing  of  his  inmost 
soul ;  the  house  of  God  is  his  chosen,  pleasing  home; 
the  disciples  of  Christ  are  his  constant  companions ; 
and  to  him  the  yoke  of  Christ  is  easy,  and  his  bur- 
den light.  Such  a  Christian  you  will  not  find  in 
places  of  vain  and  dissipating  amusement,  or  of  ques- 
tionable character;  but  you  will  be  sure  to  find  him, 
if  Providence  does  not  prevent  his  presence,  in  the 
prayer  and  conference  meetings,  and  wherever  spiri- 
tual good  may  be  obtained  or  communicated.  The 
Psalmist  describes  the  spiritually  minded  man — "  His 
delight  is  in  the  law  of  the  Lord  ;  and  in  his  law  doth 
he  meditate  day  and  night."  That  such  a  man  should 
increase  in  knowledge,  piety  and  usefulness,  might  be 
reasonably  inferred ;  but  we  are  not  left  to  uncertain 
inference  on  this  point.  We  are  informed  by  the 
same  sacred  writer  that  "  He  shall  be  like  a  tree 
planted  by  the  rivers  of  water,  that  bringeth  forth 
his  fruit  in  his  season  ;  his  leaf  also  shall  not  wither ; 
and  whatsoever  he  doth  shall  prosper."*  No  more 
beautiful  emblem  of  growth  and  prosperity  can  be 
furnished  than  a  tree,  standing  on  the  fertile  bank 
of  a  river,  covered  with  green  and  unfading  foliage, 
and  yielding  abundant  fruit — such  is  the  spiritually 
minded  Christian. 

4.   The  Grouting  Christian  has  an  increasing  con- 

*  Psa.  i :  2-3. 


GROWING     CHRISTIANS.  47 

viction  that  God  is  the  supreme  and  all-sufficient 
good  of  intelligent  creatures.  That  he  can  satisfy 
the  desires  of  an  immortal  mind,  is  a  well  established 
article  of  every  Christian's  creed.  God,  the  infinite 
fountain  of  good,  can,  cither  with  or  without  means, 
fill,  to  its  utmost  capacity  for  bliss,  the  soul  of  man. 
"  There  be  many  that  say,  who  will  show  us  any 
good  ?"  And  the  man  divinely  instructed  will  pray 
with  David — "  Lord,  lift  thou  up  the  light  of  thy 
countenance  upon  us."*  The  more  holy  any  man  ia 
the  less  his  happiness  depends  on  creatures.  Theun- 
regenerate  seek  their  happiness  wholly  from  the  world. 
All  their  views,  interests,  aims  and  hopes  are  circum- 
scribed by  its  narrow  limits.  They  are  utter  strangers 
to  every  source  of  enjoyment  which  is  not  opened  by 
its  treasures,  its  occupations,  or  its  amusements.  Per- 
sons, who  arc  sanctified  in  part,  derive  their  happiness 
partly  from  the  world,  and  partly  from  God.  Their 
affections,  aims  and  pursuits,  and  consequently  their 
enjoyments,  are  divided.  Their  religious  joys  are 
occasional,  imperfect,  and  mingled  with  secular  plea- 
sures. And  this,  with  variations  to  the  one  side  or 
the  other,  is  the  state  of  the  mass  of  Christians  in  the 
world.  13ut  the  matured  Christian  can  be  happy,  not 
only  without  the  world,  but  in  defiance  of  it.  Strip 
him  of  all  creature  good ;  and  he  can  and  will  rejoice 
in  the  light  of  God's  countenance.  As  in  prosperity 
he  enjoys  God  in  all  things,  so  in  adversity  he  enjoys 

*  Psa.  iv  ;  G. 


48  GROWING    CHRISTIANS. 

all  things  in  God.  The  Christian  may  be  poor,  de- 
spised, diseased,  and  cut  off  from  all  earthly  hope ; 
but,  if  his  faith  be  strong  and  his  love  to  Christ  fer- 
vent, he  will  possess  a  peace  which  the  vain  and  am- 
bitious occupant  of  a  palace  might  envy.  "  Although 
the  fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall  the  fruit 
be  in  the  vines  ;  the  labor  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and 
the  fields  shall  yield  no  meat ;  and  the  flock  shall  be 
cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in 
the  stalls  :  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy 
in  the  God  of  my  salvation."*  The  prophet  de- 
scribes, in  glowing  and  prophetic  language,  a  famine, 
•with  all  its  desolating  effects.  There  should  be  no 
vintage,  no  olives,  and  the  fig-tree  should  not  even 
blossom ;  the  fields  should  be  parched  and  verdure- 
less  ;  and  the  flocks  and  herds  should  perish.  Can  a 
scene  of  greater  desolation  be  imagined  ?  And  yet, 
amid  all  this  waste  and  ruin,  the  pious  prophet  could 
rejoice  in  the  Lord,  and  joy  in  the  God  of  his  salva- 
tion. Now,  it  is  clear,  that  as  Christians  increase  in 
knowledge  and  holiness,  they  approximate  that  state 
of  happiness  which  is  above  worldly  contingencies, 
and  depends  only  on  God. 

5.  The  Grouting  Christian  has  an  augmenting 
solicitude  for  the  salvation  of  sinners.  This  solici- 
tude is  an  essential  element  of  true  piety.  The  man 
who  is  anxious  for  his  own  salvation,  and  unconcerned 
about  that  of  others,  is  under  the  dominion  of  a  cul- 

*  Hab.  iii :  17-18. 


GROWING    CHRISTIANS.  49 

pable  selfishness  ;  and  differs  widely  from  the  man  of 
Tarsus,  who  said — "  Brethren,  my  heart's  desire  and 
prayer  to  God  for  Israel  is,  that  they  might  be  saved." 
One  of  the  first  and  deepest  emotions  of  a  new  born 
soul  is  desire  for  the  salvation  of  a  relative,  a  friend, 
an  acquaintance,  and  the  extending  circle  of  pious 
solicitude  soon  embraces  the  human  race.  This  feel- 
ing is  in  the  young  convert  most  fervent,  but  in  the 
matured  Christian  most  efficient.  To  ascertain  the 
strength  of  this  affection,  we  must  inquire  what  sacri- 
fices it  will  make,  and  what  labors  it  will  perform,  for 
the  attainment  of  its  object.  Estimate  its  power  in 
the  apostle  Paul  by  this  sign.  His  life  was  a  series 
of  toils,  sacrifices  and  sufferings,  voluntarily  and 
cheerfully  undergone,  to  secure  the  salvation  of  men, 
who,  with  few  exceptions,  hated,  reviled  and  perse- 
cuted him.  Asia  and  Europe  were  the  field,  his  abili- 
ties were  the  limit,  and  his  life  was  the  duration  of 
his  exertions  in  this  noble  cause.  To  all  these  efforts 
and  sacrifices  he  was  impelled  by  an  anxious,  burning 
desire  that  sinners  might  be  saved.  So  intense  was 
this  desire  that  he  would  willingly  have  suffered  the 
most  dreadful  curse,  if  by  BO  doing  he  might  be  the 
means  of  their  salvation.  "  For  I  could,"  said  he, 
"  wibh  myself  accursed  from  Christ,  for  my  brethren, 
my  kinsmen,  according  to  the  flesh.*  In  many  modern 
missionaries  this  sign  of  piety  has  stood  out  in  bold 
relief.  The  severance  of  the  ties  which  bound  them 

*Rom.  ix:  3. 


50  GROWING     CHRISTIANS. 

to  home  and  kindred,  their  residence  in  inhospita' 
ble  climes,  their  patient  toils,  and  various  sufferings, 
and  their  steady  perseverance  through  years  of  dis- 
couragement, furnished  proof  of  their  longing  desire 
for  the  salvation  of  souls.  The  growing  Christian 
then  must  have  an  increasing  solicitude  for  the  re- 
demption of  sinners — a  solicitude  which  will  evince 
itself  in  appropriate  efforts  and  sacrifices  to  attain  its 
object.  The  Christian,  who  is  "  at  ease  in  Zion," 
who  can  contemplate  without  anxiety  her  desolations, 
the  prevalence  of  sin  in  the  world,  and  countless  mul- 
titudes traveling,  with  unfaltering  and  rapid  steps,  in 
the  broad  road  to  destruction,  should  assuredly  know 
that  he  is  not  a  growing,  if,  indeed,  he  be  any  more 
than  a  nominal,  Christian. 

6.  The  character  of  a  Groiving  Christian  becomes 
more  and  more  consistent  and  beautiful.  The  young 
convert  has  many  excellencies,  and  is  likely  to  have 
many  defects.  He  has  more  zeal  than  knowledge, 
more  emotion  than  principle,  more  flowers  than  fruit. 
In  the  living,  growing  Christian  these  defects  are 
gradually  obliterated,  and  these  excellencies  are  im- 
proved ;  and  in  the  full  grown  Christian  there  is  a 
beautiful  symmetry  of  character,  in  which  there  is 
neither  lack  nor  redundancy.  His  knowledge  is  un- 
yielding without  dogmatism  ;  his  fervor  is  effective 
without  enthusiasm ;  his  liberality  is  noble  without 
ostentation ;  his  good  works  are  abundant  without 
self-righteousness  ;  and  his  piety  is  sincere  without 
bigotry.  His  religion  does  not  depend,  as  that  of 


GROWING    CHRISTIANS.  51 

many  persons  does,  on  times,  and  places,  and  circum- 
stances, and  impulses  ;  but  on  deep  and  abiding  prin- 
ciple. At  home  or  abroad,  among  friends  or  stran- 
gers, in  prosperity  or  adversity,  when  Christianity  is 
extolled  or  persecuted,  he  fears  Grod  and  keeps  his 
commandments.  His  character,  in  short,  is  accurately 
delineated  by  the  pen  of  inspiration — "  Finally,  breth- 
ren, whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever  things  arc 
honest,  whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are 
pure,  whatsoever  things  are  lovely,  whatsoever  things 
are  of  good  report ;  if  there  be  any  virtue,  and  if  there 
be  any  praise,  think  on  these  things."*  The  character 
in  which  arc  mingled,  as  the  primary  colors  in  the 
rainbow,  truth  and  honesty,  and  justice,  and  purity, 
and  loveliness,  with  whatever  is  of  good  report,  with 
all  that  is  called  virtue,  and  all  that  deserves  praise, 
is  the  character  of  a  matured  Christian;  and  to  this 
consummation,  devoutly  to  be  desired,  the  growing 
Christian  i.s  steadily,  and  joyfully  approximating. 

Do  you  inquire,  my  dear  brethren,  by  what  means 
your  growth  in  grace  may  be  promoted  ?  The  i[ues- 
tion  is  important,  and  deserves  a  well-considered  an- 
swer. If  you  arc  not  Growing  Christians,  it  is  not 
because  your  heavenly  Father  has  not  made  ample 
provision  for  your  spiritual  nourishment.  "  The  sin- 
cere," or  "  pure  milk  of  the  Word,"  is  the  food  which 
he  has  furnished  for  the  Hustentation  and  growth  of  the 
babes  of  his  family — youug  converts — inexperienced 

*  Phil,  iv  :  8. 


52  GROWING     CHRISTIANS. 

and  feeble  Christians.*  He  has  also  provided  "  strong 
meat"  for  "  them  that  are  of  full  age,  even  those  who, 
by  reason  of  use,  have  their  senses  exercised  to  dis- 
cern both  good  and  evil. "f  The  ordinances  of  God — 
teaching,  baptism,  and  the  Lord's  supper — are  design- 
ed to  convey  the  appropriate  nourishment  to  the  Lord's 
household — to  open  the  Word  to  their  minds,  and 
impress  it  on  their  hearts.  And  the  Holy  Spirit, 
which  the  Father  richly  bestows  on  them  that  seek 
his  influence,  is  commissioned  to  give  efficacy  to  the 
Divine  Word.  They  are  "  purified,"  which  is  but 
another  word  to  denote  their  spiritual  growth — "  in 
obeying  the  truth  through  the  Spirit. "| 

I  cannot,  however,  more  clearly  elucidate  the  means 
of  promoting  growth  in  grace  than  by  giving  a  brief 
account  of  the  religious  improvement  of  brother  TIM- 
OTHY STRONG. 

When  he  first  made  a  profession  of  religion,  he  was 
young,  poor,  illiterate,  encumbered  with  the  cares  of 
a  growing  family ;  and  his  associations  were  not  favor- 
able to  his  increase  in  knowledge  and  piety.  He  be- 
came, however,  in  a  few  years,  notwithstanding  all  his 
disadvantages,  an  eminently  intelligent,  pious,  and 
useful  Christian.  His  spiritual  growth  was  steady, 
rapid,  and  healthful.  He  died  in  mid-life,  with  a 
joyous  hope  of  immortality,  lamented  by  a  wide  cir- 
cle of  friends  and  admirers,  leaving  behind  him  the 
precious  fruits  of  his  labors,  and  a  vacuum  in  the 

*  1  Pet.  ii :  2.         t  Heb.  v :  14.         $  1  Pet.  i :  22. 


GROWING    CHRISTIANS.  53 

church  and  in  the  community  which  no  man  could 
fill. 

I  was  led  to  inquire  for  the  secret  of  his  religious 
growth  and  influence.  I  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the 
"  chamber  where  the  good  man"  met  "  his  fate,"  and 
the  grassy  mound  which  marked  the  resting  place  of 
his  mortal  part.  Here  I  learned  from  his  bereaved 
family  the  secret  of  his  remarkable  religious  improve- 
ment and  eminent  usefulness.  I  got  a  view  of  his 
daily  companion  —  his  closet  Bible.  Oh,  it  was  a 
sight  worth  seeing !  It  was  a  well-bound  pocket 
Bible,  printed  at  Oxford,  with  copious  references. 
Never  have  I  seen  such  marks  of  use  in  any  Bible. 
Every  page,  and  in  some  chapters  almost  every  verse, 
had  marginal  references  made  with  his  own  hand ; 
and  so  intense  was  his  application  to  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  so  tenacious  was  his  memory,  that  he 
knew  at  a  glance  for  what  purpose  every  mark  was 
made.  He  was  a  man  of  one  book  ;  and  so  thoroughly 
had  he  inscribed  its  contents  on  his  own  heart,  that 
his  children  thought  it  quite  a  triumph  when  they 
could  ask  him  any  question  from  the  Bible  which  he 
could  not  promptly  answer,  without  referring  to  it. 
Nor  did  he  study  the  Scriptures  as  a  mere  literary 
repast.  They  were  received,  with  unquestioning  do- 
cility, as  God's  message  to  him — his  food,  his  trea- 
sure, his  salvation. 

Another  source  of  his  religious  growth  was  reveal- 
ed. Prayer  icas  his  constant  employment.  Ho  had 
stated  hours  for  secret  devotion  ;  and  nothing  but 


54  GROWING     CHRISTIANS. 

stern  necessity  could  divert  from  his  plan.  He 
might  neglect  his  secular  engagements — his  regular 
meals — and  necessary  sleep ;  but  he  would  not  ne- 
glect secret  prayer  ;  for  said  he,  "  Daily  converse  with 
all  the  apostles  would  not  be  a  substitute  for  it."  As 
he  resided  in  the  country,  he  usually  retired  to  some 
unfrequented  and  silent  forest,  where  he  might  hold  un- 
interrupted communion  with  his  God.  Here,  in  imi- 
tation of  his  Master,  he  would  "  offer  up  prayers  and 
supplications,  with  strong  crying  and  tears."  Some- 
times he  would  be  so  deeply  affected  by  divine  things, 
and  his  mind  would  be  so  entirely  absorbed  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  prayer,  that  his  voice  might  be  heard  a  dis- 
tance of  several  hundreds  of  paces,  when  he  was  un- 
conscious of  speaking  above  his  breath.  A  very  deep 
impression  was  made  on  the  minds  of  many  by  the 
solemn  and  earnest  tones  of  his  suppliant  voice,  in  the 
distant  and  solitary  woodland.  It  seemed,  indeed, 
as  if  a  worm  of  the  earth  was  in  audience  with  the 
majesty  of  the  universe.  At  other  times  in  the  still 
hours  of  the  night,  supposing  that  none  but  God  could 
hear  him,  he  would  rise  from  his  bed,  and  spend  long 
seasons  in  fervent  supplications. 

It  can  surprise  no  one  acquainted  with  the  excellence 
of  God's  word — its  adaptation  to  nourish,  strengthen, 
and  beautify  the  soul — and  the  efficacy  of  earnest  and 
believing  prayer,  to  learn  that  brother  Timothy 
Strong  was  a  Growing,  and  that  he  soon  became  a 
matured  Christian — as  strict  in  the  performance  of  pri- 
vate as  of  public  duties — willing  to  make  great  sacri- 


GROWING    CHRISTIANS.  55 

fices  in  the  cause  of  Christ — preferring  truth  to  popu- 
larity— treasures  in  heaven  to  treasures  on  earth — 
and  faithful  rebuke  to  indiscreet  praise — that  his  life 
was  singularly  useful,  and  his  death  not  merely  peace- 
ful, but  triumphant  and  glorious — and  that  his  loss 
was  bewailed  as  a  great  public  calamity. 

But,  why,  my  brethren,  should  not  each  one  of  you 
be  as  holy  and  as  fruitful  as  was  this  good  man  ?  It 
was  not  his  genius,  his  learning,  or  his  peculiar  privi- 
leges that  made  him  a  growing,  consistent  and  useful 
Christian,  but  communion  with  his  Bible,  and  com- 
munion with  his  God — privileges  that  maybe  enjoyed 
by  us  all.  Depend  on  it,  if  we  are  not  growing,  fruit- 
bearing  Christians,  the  fault  is  our  own.  We  neglect 
the  lively  oracles,  the  unfailing  source  of  light  and 
wisdom,  and  the  throne  of  grace,  whence  our  strength, 
comfort  and  efficiency  must  proceed. 

Let  us  then  aspire  after  eminent  attainments  in  the 
divine  lift1.  Here  our  aspirations  cannot  be  too  lofty, 
or  too  fervent.  "  The  desire  of  power  in  excess  caused 
angels  to  fall ;  the  desire  of  knowledge  in  excess 
caused  man  to  fall ;  but  in  charity,"  or  holiness, 
"  there  is  no  excess  ;  neither  angel  nor  man  can  come  in 
danger  by  it."*  "  Forgetting  those  things  which  are 
behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things  which  arc 
before,"  let  us  "  press  toward  the  mark  for  the  prize 
of  the  high  calling  of  God  is  Christ  Jesus."f 

Availing  ourselves  of  the  rich  provisions  which  our 

*  Lord  Bacon.  f  I'liil.  iii     l:M-l. 


56  GROWING    CHRISTIANS. 

heavenly  Father  has  made  for  our  nourishment  and 
progress,  we  may  all  be  growing,  fruitful  Christians, 
honoring  our  Redeemer  on  earth,  and  ripening  for 
glory. 

"  Now  unto  him  that  is  able  to  keep  you  from  fall- 
ing, and  to  present  you  faultless  before  the  presence 
of  his  glory,  with  exceeding  joy,  to  the  only  wise  God 
our  Saviour,  be  glory  and  majesty,  dominion  and 
power,  both  now  and  ever.  Amen."* 

*  Jude  xxiv :  25. 


LECTURE  III. 

USEFUL      CHRISTIANS. 

THE  subject  of  our  evening  Lecture,  according  to 
appointment,  is  Useful  Christians. — Christian  use- 
fulness consists  in  diminishing  the  amount  of  sin  and 
misery,  and  increasing  the  amount  of  holiness  and  en- 
joyment, in  the  world. 

A  Useful  Christian  is — 

1.  A  pious  Christian.  His  principles  are  sound, 
his  affections  are  pure  and  fervent,  his  aim  is  upright, 
and  his  life  is  holy;  he  is,  in  short,  a  living,  growing 
Christian.  An  ungodly  professor  of  Christianity  is  a 
blot  on  the  character,  and  an  incubus  on  the  efforts, 
of  a  church,  and  a  nuisance  in  the  world.  Hypocrites, 
apostates,  and  disorderly  walkers,  have  done  more  to 
mar  the  peace,  retard  the  progress,  and  bring  reproach 
on  the  character  of  churches,  than  all  the  infidels,  op- 
posers,  and  persecutors  on  earth.  Judas,  and  Demas, 
and  Simon,  the  sorcerer,  proved  a  greater  scourge  to 
the  early  churches,  than  Herod,  and  Pontius  Pilate, 
and  Caesar.  An  unholy  church  member  exerts  a  con- 
taminating, paralyzing  influence  on  the  body  to  which 
he  belongs.  "  Know  ye  not  that  a  little  leaven  leaven- 
cth  the  whole  lump."  The  principles,  tho  spirit,  the 


58  USEFUL     CHRISTIANS. 

example,  of  such  a  man  will  grieve  and  discourage  the 
good,  seduce  the  unwary  and  inexperienced,  and  ani- 
mate and  strengthen  the  evil.  But  a  godly  man  is  a 
blessing  to  any  church.  True  piety  inspires  the  de- 
sire of  usefulness ;  nay,  the  desire  is  itself  an  essen- 
tial element  of  piety.  While  it  inspires  the  desire  of 
usefulness,  it  secures  the  confidence  and  esteem  of 
men,  which  is  an  important  means  of  influence.  Let 
a  Christian  walk  according  to  his  principles,  adorning 
in  all  things  his  profession,  and  it  is  interesting  to  no- 
tice how  those  who  may  have  derided  him  as  a  weak 
enthusiast,  or  incurable  bigot,  will  gradually  come  to 
respect  and  reverence  him ;  and  if,  in  the  circle  of 
their  acquaintances,  one  must  be  chosen  to  arbitrate 
their  differences,  or  to  be  an  executor  of  their  wills  or 
a  guardian  of  their  children,  or  to  watch  at  their  bed- 
sides in  the  time  of  sickness,  he  will  be  the  first  to 
receive  their  suffrages.  Bad  as  is  the  natural  heart 
of  man,  it  renders  a  cheerful  homage  to  goodness,  if 
its  proximity  creates  no  invidious  distinction,  and  if  it 
assumes  not  the  attitude  of  reproof  and  correction. 
The  pious  man  has  God's  approbation,  and  may  expect 
God's  blessing  in  his  labors ;  and  without  this  no  la- 
bors, however  vigorous  and  well  directed,  can  prove 
successful.  "  I,"  said  Paul,  "  have  planted,  Apollos 
watered;  but  God  gave  the  increase."  If  God  de- 
lights in  us  he  will  grant  us  success.  Observation 
has  long  since  convinced  me  that  a  Christian's  useful- 
ness depends  far  more  on  his  godliness  than  on  his 
gifts.  I  once  knew  a  brother  of  feeble  and  unculti- 


USEFUL    CHRISTIANS.  59 

vated  intellect,  and  of  slow  and  stammering  speech, 
whose  life  was  exemplary,  whose  zeal  was  fervent,  and 
whose  efforts  in  the  cause  of  Christ  were  diligent  and 
faithful ;  and  in  the  day  of  retribution,  he  will,  I 
doubt  not,  have  many  stars  in  his  crown  of  rejoicing. 
2.  A  consistent  Christian.  Along  with  genuine, 
and  even  fervent  piety,  a  Christian  sometimes  has  such 
blemishes,  or  eccentricities  of  character,  as  will,  in  a 
great  measure,  prevent  his  usefulness.  He  may  be 
sincere  ;  but  he  is  fickle,  hot  and  cold  by  turns,  some- 
times building,  and  sometimes  destroying  what  he  has 
built.  He  may  be  conscientious ;  but  he  is  morose  ; 
judging  from  his  spirit  and  conduct,  you  would  con- 
clude that  religion  is  a  compound  of  gloom,  austerity 
and  fault-finding.  He  may  be  well  meaning,  but  he 
is  rude  in  his  manners — acting  as  if  he  thought  polite- 
ness, or  courtesy,  a  sin,  and  coarseness  a  Christian 
grace — and  as  if  to  be  a  saint  he  must  necessarily  be  a 
boor.  He  maybe  fervent;  but  he  is  eccentric,  and 
deems  himself  meritorious  just  in  proportion  as  he 
succeeds  in  making  himself  singular  and  ridiculous. 
He  may  be  zealous ;  but  he  is  indiscreet,  and  con- 
stantly saying  or  doing  something  which  gives  offence, 
or  brings  reproach  on  the  cause  which  he  would  pro- 
mote. He  may,  in  fine,  be  a  Christian,  acceptable  to 
God,  but  owing  to  his  defects,  or  oddities,  or  errors, 
he  looses  the  affection  or  confidence,  of  his  acquaint- 
ances, and  is  precluded  the  possibility  of  benefiting 
them.  "  Dead  flies  cause  the  ointment  of  tin-  apothe- 
cary to  send  forth  a  stinking  savor  :  so  doth  a  little 


GO  USEFUL     CHRISTIANS. 

folly  him  that  is  in  reputation  for  wisdom  and  honor."* 
But  the  Christian  whose  life  is  in  harmony  with  his 
principles  and  profession,  adorns  the  Gospel,  commends 
the  Redeemer,  wins  the  confidence  of  his  fellows,  and 
is  mighty  to  promote  their  salvation.  He  is  a  light 
in  the  world  :  he  is  salt  in  the  earth.  The  hallowing 
influence  of  such  a  Christian  cannot  be  fully  esti- 
mated until  the  light  of  eternity  shall  disclose  the  re- 
sults of  human  agency. 

3.  An  intelligent  Christian.  "  Do  you  think,"  in- 
quired a  self-conceited  young  preacher  of  a  venerable 
father  in  the  Gospel,  "  that  God  needs  human  learn- 
ing to  build  up  his  church  ?"  "  I  am  sure,"  replied 
the  good  man,  "  he  does  not  need  human  ignorance." 
The  reproof  was  merited,  and  the  remark  wise.  Know- 
ledge is  power,  as  well  in  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  as  in 
the  kingdoms  of  the  world.  Other  things  being  equal, 
the  most  intelligent  Christian  will  always  be  the  most 
useful.  Ignorance  is  one  of  the  great  evils  of  the 
world.  Men  are  alienated  from  the  life  of  God 
through  the  ignorance  that  is  in  them.  It  is  the 
mother  of  all  the  superstitions,  which,  under  pagan  or 
Christian  names,  have  enslaved,  corrupted  and  de- 
based mankind.  It  is  the  prolific  source  of  the  errors 
which  have  agitated,  divided,  enfeebled  and  disgraced 
the  Christian  world.  It  is  a  barrier  to  human  salva- 
tion. u  My  people,"  says  Jehovah,  "  perish  for  lack 
of  knowledge."  That  the  earth  is  in  the  present  day, 

*  Eccl.  x:  1. 


USEFUL    CHRISTIANS.  Gl 

to  a  melancholy  extent  covered  with  darkness,  none 
will  deny.  By  the  ordination  of  heaven,  this  dark- 
ness must  be  dispersed,  by  the  ministry,  not  of  angels, 
but  of  men — of  godly  men.  Every  Christian  convert, 
whether  male  or  female,  in  his  proper  sphere,  and  to 
the  extent  of  his  abilities,  is  required  to  be  a  teacher 
of  divine  things.*  But  how  can  a  Christian  be  quali- 
fied to  instruct  the  ignorant,  to  rebuke  the  perverse,  to 
confute  the  erring,  to  fortify  the  wavering,  and  to  com- 
fort the  desponding,  without  knowledge  ?  "  If  the 
blind  lead  the  blind,  both  shall  fall  into  the  ditch." 
General  knowledge  is  desirable  for  the  Christian ;  for 
it  disciplines  and  strengthens  his  intellect,  and  affords 
him  the  materials  for  illustrating  and  enforcing  divine 
truth ;  but  Scriptural  knowledge  is  essential  to  his 
usefulness,  and  contributes  to  it  in  proportion  as  it  is 
distinct  and  experimental.  How  important  then  the 
apostle's  exhortation,  and  how  appropriate,  not  only  to 
the  Christian  evangelist  and  pastor,  but  the  obscurest 
member  of  tho  household  of  faith. — "  Study  to  show 
thyself  approved  unto  God." 

4.  An  active  Christian.  The  believer  is  called  to 
be  a  laborer  with  Christ.  Had  the  Redeemer  no 
other  motive  than  to  render  him  happy,  he  would  at 
once  discharge  him  from  the  toils,  and  remove  him 
from  the  temptations,  dangers,  and  sufferings  of  this 
life  ;  but  intending  that  he  bhall  share  in  the  honor 
of  well-doing,  the  Master  continues  him  ou  earth, 

*1  I'et.  iv  :   10-11— Tit.  ii ;  -I. 


62  USEFUL  CHRISTIANS. 

amid  discouragements  and  trials,  to  finish  his  work 
The  world  is  the  field  of  the  Christian's  labors.  The 
field  is  vast,  and  arduous  is  the  work  to  be  done.  The 
world,  enslaved  by  sin,  debased  by  ignorance,  and 
crushed  with  nameless  ills,  is  to  be  converted  to 
Christ.  The  moral  desert  is  to  be  changed  into  a 
beautiful  and  fruit-bearing  garden.  Superstition  is  to 
be  succeeded  by  knowledge,  thraldom  by  liberty,  pollu- 
tion by  holiness,  and  sorrow  by  peace  and  joy.  But 
this  great  change  cannot  be  effected  by  good  wishes, 
kind  intentions,  or  even  by  earnest  prayers.  The  seed 
must  be  sown,  and  the  field  must  be  cultivated,  or  in 
vain  do  we  expect  fruit.  It  is  by  effort — direct,  ear- 
nest, well  applied  effort — that  Christian  usefulness  is 
secured.  Nor  must  the  believer,  if  he  would  fulfill 
his  ministry,  waste  his  sympathies  on  distant  or  irre- 
mediable woes;  but  betake  himself  to  the  removal  or 
mitigation  of  such  evils,  and  to  the  promotion  of  such 
good  as  lie  within  the  compass  of  his  abilities  and  op- 
portunities. The  man  who  neglects  present,  practi- 
cable, substantial  usefulness,  in  his  anxious  concern 
for  distant,  unattainable,  imaginary  good,  is  a  dream- 
ing enthusiast  or  a  heartless  hypocrite.  In  such  a 
world  as  this  the  Christian  can  never  want  the  means 
or  opportunity  of  usefulness.  The  sick  may  be  visited 
and  relieved.  The  wants  of  the  poor  may  be  supplied  ; 
the  ignorant  may  be  instructed  in  the  way  of  salva- 
tion and  of  duty  ;  the  vicious  may  be  reclaimed  from 
their  devious  and  dangerous  wanderings ;  the  weak 
may  be  strengthened  in  their  combats  with  the  world, 


USEFUL    CHRISTIANS.  63 

the  flesh,  and  the  devil ;  and  the  distressed  may  have 
the  fountains  of  Gospel  consolation  opened  to  them. 
The  useful  Christian  not  only  labors,  but  labors  from 
principle — labors  diligently — and  labors  to  the  end  of 
life..  Looking  around  him,  he  carefully  surveys  the 
field  of  his  labor ;  estimates  his  qualifications  and 
means  for  usefulness ;  earnestly  seeks  the  divine 
guidance,  aid,  and  blessing  in  his  work;  and  is  will- 
ing to  be  employed  any  way,  or  any  where,  if  souls 
may  be  pro6ted,  or  Christ  may  be  glorified.  If,  then, 
brethren,  you  would  be  useful  in  your  vocation,  heed 
the  words  of  the  wise  preacher — "  Whatsoever  thy 
hand  fiudeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might;  for  there  is 
no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  wisdom  in 
the  grave,  whither  thou  goest." 

5.  A  faithful  Christian.  The  Christian  laborer 
who  seeks  popularity  may,  by  prophesying  smooth 
things,  flattering  the  run  it}*,  soothing  the  prejudices, 
and  pandering  to  the  passions  of  men,  attain  his  ob- 
ject, at  least,  for  a  season  ;  but  let  him  not  expect 
to  profit  souls  or  please  God.  He  will  have  his  re- 
ward— be  admired  and  extolled — at  any  rate,  tolera- 
ted and  endured  by  his  fellow  creatures  ;  but  it  would 
be  strange  if,  without  seeking  it,  he  should  obtain  a 
higher  reward.  As  the  skillful  surgeon  probes,  cuts, 
and  cauterizes  the  festering  wound  of  his  patient,  that 
he  may  save  his  life,  .so  the  useful  Christian  proclaims 
the  most  unpalatable  truths,  warns,  remou.-t  rat^s, 
seeks  to  arouse  the  slumbering  conscience,  to  fill  the 
soul  with  terrors,  and  to  Irad  it  to  the  m<»t  unfeigned 


64  USEFUL    CHRISTIANS. 

contrition  and  the  most  painful  exercises  of  self-de- 
nial, that  he  may  save  it  from  death.  What  should 
•we  think  of  a  surgeon  whose  false  tenderness  should 
impel  him  to  apply  emollients,  when  he  should  use 
the  scalpel — to  heal  the  wound  slightly  when  he  should 
probe  it  to  the  bottom  ?  His  tenderness  would  be 
cruelty ;  and  yet  this  cruelty  would  be  tender  mercy 
compared  with  the  conduct  of  the  Christian  teacher 
who  should  cry,  Peace,  peace  to  them  to  whom  God 
does  not  speak  peace  !  The  sin  of  deceiving  souls, 
whether  it  be  committed  through  inattention,  false 
compassion,  or  the  love  of  public  favor,  is  of  no  com- 
mon turpitude.  The  ministry  of  Christ,  our  great 
Exemplar,  was  characterized  by  preeminent  faithful- 
ness. With  illimitable  knowledge,  a  manner  of  speak- 
ing, simple,  familiar,  beautiful,  and  striking,  and  a 
character  free  from  every  blemish,  he  might,  had  that 
been  his  aim,  have  acquired  unrivalled  popularity. 
Had  he  praised  the  virtues,  vindicated  the  authority, 
and  flattered  the  prejudices  of  the  scribes  and  Phari- 
sees, the  chief  priest  and  elders,  they,  like  the  com- 
mon people,  would  have  heard  him  gladly ;  then  there 
had  been  no  conspiracy  to  take  away  his  life,  and  the 
malignant  cry,  "  Crucify  him  !  crucify  him  !"  had 
never  been  uttered.  But  Christ  came  not  to  please, 
but  to  profit  men.  He  found  the  Jews  laboring  under 
a  most  dangerous  infatuation,  and  he  sought,  at  the 
sacrifice  of  reputation,  ease,  and  life,  to  dispel  it.  He 
confuted  their  errors,  unveiled  their  hypocrisies,  re- 
proved their  extortions,  and  disclosed  their  impending 


USEFUL    CHRISTIANS.  65 

doom  ;  and  they  hated  him  because  he  told  them  the 
truth.  If,  Christian  brethren,  we  would  be  useful  in 
our  generation,  we  must  cherish  the  Spirit,  and  copy 
the  faithfulness  of  our  divine  and  illustrious  Leader. 
But  let  us  not  confound  Christian  fidelity,  as  many 
have  unfortunately  done,  with  sectarian  bigotry,  sel- 
fish intolerance,  and  unfeeling  severity.  True  faith- 
fulness is  kind,  gentle,  baptized  in  the  spirit  of  love, 
wounding  only  to  heal,  and  denouncing  only  to 
bless. 

.  6.  A  praying  Christian.  This  thought  has  been 
clearly  implied  in  the  preceding  portion  of  this  Lec- 
ture, but,  in  consequence  of  its  great  importance,  is 
entitled  to  a  distinct  notice.  Prayer  is  the  true  se- 
cret of  Christian  usefulness.  For  this  there  can  be 
no  substitute  :  genius,  learning,  reputation,  titles,  in- 
dustry, are  all  vain  without  it.  It  exerts  a  two-fold 
influence.  It  affects  the  suppliant  himself.  The  spi- 
rit of  prayer  is  the  spirit  of  active,  laborious,  self- 
denying  enterprize.  The  man  who  intelligently  and 
earnestly  prays  for  an  object,  comes  forth,  from  com- 
munion with  God,  prepared,  if  it  be  attainable  by 
means,  to  labor  vigorously  to  secure  it.  But  prayer 
not  only  affects  the  suppliant;  it  influences  God  him- 
self. That  God  has  bound  himself,  by  infallible 
promises,  to  hear  the  prayer  of  faith,  the  Scriptures 
clearly  disclose.  The  history  of  the  church  is  the 
record  of  the  power  and  triumphs  of  prayer.  It  de- 
livered Daniel  from  the  den  of  lions,  and  Peter  from 
prison.  It  was  while  the  disciples  "  continued  with 


66  USEFUL    CHRISTIANS. 

one  accord  in  prayer  and  supplication,"  that  the  spirit 
was  poured  out,  in  Jerusalem,  with  power,  arid  signs, 
and  wonders.  In  all  ages,  the  men  whose  example, 
labors,  and  influence  have  proved  a  blessing  to  the 
world,  have  been  men  of  prayer.  The  Messiah  was 
not  less  a  man  of  prayer  than  of  sorrows.  Let  any 
one  read  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  carefully,  and  he 
will  be  surprised  to  find  how  prominent  a  place  prayer 
occupied  in  the  lives  of  the  primitive  saints.  In  mod- 
ern times  the  men  whose  labors  have  exerted  the  most, 
happy  influence  in  the  dissemination  of  divine  truth, 
and  the  salvation  of  sinners,  have  been  eminently  dis- 
tinguished for  the  frequency  and  fervency  of  their 
prayers.  Ah,  if  the  Christian  world  did  but  know 
the  power  of  prayer,  their  aggressions  on  the  kingdom 
of  satan  would  not  be  so  feeble  and  ineffective ;  but, 
with  the  ardor  and  heroism  of  the  early  disciples, 
they  would  rapidly  extend  the  conquests  of  the  Re- 
deemer to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

A  beautiful  and  impressive  illustration  of  the  prin- 
ciples maintained  in  this  Lecture,  is  furnished  in  the 
history  of  brother  MARK  EARNEST. 

Many  Christians  fancy  that  were  they  endowed  with 
shining  and  popular  gifts,  possessed  of  wealth,  placed 
in  circumstances  favorable  to  their  influence  and  ac- 
tivity, or  invested  with  official  rank  and  authority, 
they  would  find  great  pleasure  in  seeking  to  be  useful. 
But  this  is  generally  an  illusion.  He  that  fails  to 
improve  one  talent  would  fail  to  improve  five.  "  He 
that  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least  is  faithful  also  in 


USEFUL    CHRISTIANS.  67 

much  :  and  he  that  is  unjust  in  the  least  is  unjust 
also  in  much."*  The  faith,  zeal  and  energy  which 
make  a  man  useful  in  one  sphere  would  make  him  use- 
ful in  another.  No  Christian  can  be  in  a  condition 
so  poor,  so  obscure,  and  so  embarrassed,  but  that  he 
can  find,  or  create,  opportunities  of  usefulness,  if  he 
has  "  a  mind  to  work."  This  will  strikingly  appear 
in  the  life  of  Mr.  Earnest. 

He  was  poor,  by  occupation  a  mechanic,  and  encum- 
bered with  the  cares  of  a  large  and  dependent  family. 
He  made  a  profession  of  religion  while  young,  and  for 
several  years,  though  his  deportment  was  not  censura- 
ble, he  gave  no  promise  of  uncommon  usefulness.  He 
seemed  to  possess  an  average  measure  of  piety,  which, 
unfortunately,  in  most  religious  communities,  is  very 
small.  After  he  had  been  some  years  a  church  mem- 
ber, a  very  great  and  precious  revival  of  religion  com- 
menced in  the  place  where  he  resided.  The  church 
to  which  he  belonged  shared  richly  in  the  refreshing 
influence.  The  members,  generally,  were  awakened, 
penitently  confessed  their  pins,  entered  into  covenant 
to  serve  God  with  greater  fidelity,  and  made  more 
vigorous  exertions  to  promote  the  salvation  of  sinners. 
IJrothor  Earnest,  especially,  seemed  to  be  quickened 
into  new  life.  Whether  he  had  not  previously  been 
converted,  or  now  only  received  a  fresh  communication 
of  spiritual  influence,  I  know  not;  but  he  seemed  to 
be  inspired  with  an  extraordinary  measure  of  zeal, 

*  Luke  xvi ;  10. 


68  USEFUL     CHJR.ISTIANS. 

courage  and  activity.  Those  who  had  long  known 
him  could  hardly  realize  that  he  was  the  same  man. 
He  was  endowed  with  an  ordinary  intellect — his  edu- 
cation had  been  very  slender — and  his  habits  had  not 
been  such  as  to  fit  him  for  usefulness.  But  every  ob- 
stacle yielded  to  strong  faith,  a  warm  heart,  a  deter- 
mined resolution,  and  patient  efforts.  He  became,  in 
a  short  time,  one  of  the  most  efficient  laborers  in  the 
revival.  His  modest,  unpretending  manner,  and  af- 
fectionate, tender  spirit,  and  withal,  his  dauntless 
courage,  enabled  him  to  approach  the  enemies  of  reli- 
gion without  giving  offence,  and  to  converse  with  them 
concerning  the  interests  of  their  souls,  with  a  freedom 
and  fidelity,  which  would  have  been  denied  to  more 
prominent  advocates  of  Christianity.  But,  if,  at  any 
time,  his  gentle  and  well  meant  approaches  were  re- 
pulsed, the  meekness  of  spirit  which  he  displayed,  the 
increased  importunity  in  prayer  to  which  his  defeat 
gave  birth,  were  quite  as  likely  to  secure  his  object  as 
his  most  earnest  admonitions  would  have  been.  In 
his  efforts  to  win  souls  for  Christ,  he  entered  with 
equal  readiness  the  work-shop,  the  counting-room,  and 
the  parlor.  Many  were  brought  to  repentance  by  his 
solemn  and  pungent  admonitions,  and  his  tender 
and  impressive  exhortations.  Many  through  his  per- 
suasion entered  the  sanctuary,  and  were  awakened  and 
converted  by  the  ministration  of  God's  word.  In  the 
meetings  for  prayer,  and  the  instruction  of  inquirers, 
he  took  an  active  and  efficient,  but  unobtrusive  part. 
To  his  wakeful  attention,  and  timely  suggestions,  his 


USEFUL   CHRISTIANS.  69 

pastor  was  indebted  for  many  precious  opportunities 
of  doing  good.  Only  the  judgment  day  will  reveal 
the  amount  of  usefulness  which  he  accomplished  in 
that  revival  season.  Quite  sure  I  am  that  many  in 
that  day  will  hail  him  as  the  honored  agent  of  their 
conversion — their  spiritual  father. 

Many*  years  have  passed  since  the  close  of  that 
never-to-be-forgotten  revival.  Many  who  labored  in 
it  have  gone  to  receive  their  reward.  Many  who  were 
refreshed  and  invigorated  in  it  have  relapsed  into  their 
previous  coldness  and  inefficiency.  It  was  thought, 
and  even  predicted,  that  brother  Earnest  would  soon 
lose  his  zeal,  and  cease  from  his  activities.  The  pre- 
diction was  not  strange,  considering  how  frequently 
the  fervor  of  a  revival  proves  evanescent.  But  it  has 
not  been  fulfilled.  Brother  Earnest  has  several  times 
changed  his  residence,  occupation,  and  church  connec- 
tions, but  his  piety  and  labors  in  the  cause  of  Christ, 
have  undergone  no  material  abatement.  Every  where, 
and  under  all  circumstances,  he  has  been  the  same 
humble,  fervent,  consistent,  active,  useful  Christian. 
In  the  social  prayer  meeting,  in  the  Sunday  school,  in 
the  church  meetings,  in  the  public  meetings  for  wor- 
ship and  the  ministration  of  the  word,  his  place  is 
always  filled,  and  well  filled,  if  he  has  not  some  valid 
excuse  for  his  absence.  He  is  constantly  devising,  or 
executing,  some  scheme  of  usefulness.  The  fervency 
of  his  zeal,  the  uniformity  of  his  conduct,  and  the  dis- 
interestedness of  his  labors,  have  secured  for  him  the 
confidence  and  esteem  of  all  who  know  him,  and  an 


70  USEFUL    CHRISTIANS. 

enviable  influence  for  doing  good.  Such  a  man  is  a 
jewel — an  example  to  believers — a  comfort  to  his 
pastor — an  honor  to  his  church — a  blessing  to  the 
community — a  monument  of  grace — and  a  predestined 
heir  of  heaven.  And  yet  he  is  distinguished  not  by 
his  knowledge,  fluency  of  speech,  gift  in  prayer  or  ex- 
hortation, but  simply  by  his  earnestness  of  spirit,  dili- 
gence in  labor,  and  consistency  of  character.  Nor  let 
it  be  forgotten,  that  this  spirit  has  been  maintained, 
this  labor  performed,  and  this  character  matured, 
while  he  has  been  incessantly  struggling  to  supply  the 
wants  of  a  growing  and  dependent  family. 

I  will  conclude  this  Lecture  with  two  of  three  re- 
marks— 

1.  No  Christian,  however  poor,  obscure,  and  feeble, 
is  denied  the  luxury  of  being  useful.  Every  servant 
of  Christ  has  a  work  to  do — a  work  which  no  man, 
nor  angel  can  do  for  him.  He  should  earnestly  in- 
quire, "  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  ?"  And 
having  found  his  appropriate  sphere  of  usefulness,  he 
should  occupy  it,  with  a  fervor,  diligence  and  perse- 
verance, proportioned  to  the  greatness  of  his  obligation 
to  Christ,  and  the  brightness  of  the  reward  of  well- 
doing. It  was,  I  think,  the  excellent  John  Newton, 
who  remarked,  that  if  an  angel  were  sent  from  heaven 
to  earth,  it  would  be  a  matter  of  profound  indifference 
to  him  whether  he  should  be  employed  in  sweeping 
streets,  commanding  armies,  or  governing  nations,  pro- 
vided he  was  doing  the  will  of  God.  Every  sphere  in 
which  Christ  places  his  people  may  be  ennobled  b** 


USEFUL   CHRISTIANS.  71 

the  faithful  discharge  of  its  duties.  He  that  does  the 
will  of  God  does  well.  Whatever  is  done  for  the 
glory  of  Christ  is  nobly  done.  Let  the.  Christian, 
then,  not  be  ashamed  of  his  position  in  the  world — 
God  has  chosen  it,  and  chosen  it  wisely — but  aim  to 
adorn  it. 

2.  The  success  of  Christian  laborers  is  not  always 
proportionate  to  the  measure  and  fidelity  of  their  ef- 
forts.    Christ's  personal  ministry,  though  it  was  pre- 
eminently faithful,  searching  and  powerful,  does  not 
appear  to  have  been  remarkably  successful.      It  was 
the  Messiah  who  said  in  prophecy — "  I  have  labored 
in  vain,  I  have  spent  my  strength  for  naught  and  in 
vain."     The  disciple  is  not  above  his  Master.     Labor 
is  ours :  success  is  God's.     For  various   reasons  ho 
may  withhold  success  from  his  faithful  and  beloved 
servants.       He  may  design   to  make  and  keep  them 
humble — to  teach  them  that  their  sufficiency  is  of  God 
— to  instruct  others  to  look   beyond  instruments,  to 
the  divine  blessing,  for  success — or,  in  just  judgment, 
for  their  porversencss  and  hardness  of  heart,  he  may 
refuse  success  to  the  most  faithful  ministrations  amoii" 

o 

a  people.  This  sentiment  is  in  perfect  harmony  with 
our  observations.  We  have  seen  ministers  and  parents, 
of  gifts,  piety  and  diligence,  seeming  to  labor  in  vain; 
and  others  less  gifted,  and  not  more  pious  or  faithful, 
laboring  with  great  apparent  success. 

3.  The  reward  of  Christian  laborers  shall  be  pro- 
portioned, not  to  their  success,  but   to  their  toil  and 
faithfulness.       In  the  day  of  retribution,  Christ  will 


72  USEFUL     CHRISTIANS. 

say — "  Well  done,  good  a.n<L  faithful" — not  successful 
— "  servant."  The  Christian  husbandman,  who  from 
a  sterile  soil  reaps  one  sheaf,  may  secure  a  more  abun- 
dant reward  than  he,  who  in  a  more  fruitful  soil,  with 
less  labor  and  care,  reaps  many  sheaves.  As  God  re- 
garded with  approbation  the  desire  of  David  to  build 
him  a  house,  which  he  was  forbidden  to  erect,  so  in 
eternity  many  an  anxious  desire  to  do  good,  that  never 
found  an  opportunity  of  displaying  itself  in  acts,  and 
many  a  generous  and  noble  scheme  of  usefulness, 
which  from  untoward  circumstances,  perished  in  its 
inception,  will  meet  a  bright  reward;  while  many  a 
splendid  plan  of  seeming  usefulness,  conceived  in 
vanity,  prosecuted  in  self-confidence  and  ending  in  self- 
exaltation,  will  receive  the  stamp  of  God's  displeasure. 


LECTURE  IV. 

HAPPY      CHRISTIANS. 

IN  many  minds  piety  is,  unfortunately,  associated 
with  an  austere  disposition,  a  gloomy  countenance, 
retirement  from  the  world,  and  an  unceasing  round  of 
penances,  ever-flowing  tears,  and  ever-resounding 
groans.  This  is  a  great  and  most  pernicious  mistake. 
The  error,  doubtless,  has  its  origin  in  the  tendency 
of  depraved  human  nature  to  superstition.  Various 
causes  have  contributed  to  increase  the  delusion.  The 
conflicts,  painful  self-denials,  and  bitter  contrition 
which  frequently  attend  the  commencement  of  a  reli- 
gious life,  and  which  are  clearly  products  of  sin  and 
guilt,  arc  exaggerated,  and  placed  to  the  account  of 
religion.  Christians  of  a  gloomy  temperament,  who  are 
generally  sincere,  and  frequently  active  and  efficient, 
give,  by  their  morose  temper  and  forbidding  manners,  a 
false  impression  of  the  influence  of  Christianity.  The 
ascetic  tendency  of  human  nature,  which,  among  Ro- 
manists, is  cherished,  and  developed  in  penances  and 
monkery — among  Protestants,  shows  itself  in  excessive 
scrupolosity,  fault-finding,  and  a  war  on  innocent,  but 
uncongenial  enjoyments  The  Christian,  it  must  be 
conceded,  has  his  troubles — troubles  in  common  with 


74  HAPPY  CHRISTIANS. 

other  men,  and  troubles  peculiar  to  himself;  but  he 
has  his  consolations  also.  He  has  to  bear  the  yoke  of 
Christ ;  but  the  yoke  is  easy  and  the  burden  light. 
He  has  his  tears ;  but  tears  have  their  own  sweetness 
too.  The  afflictions  of  the  people  of  God  are  pre- 
ferable to  the  momentary  pleasures  of  sin.  Why  should 
the  Christian  be  melancholy  ?  What  is  there  in  the 
service  of  Christ,  the  favor  of  God,  or  the  hope  of  Heaven, 
to  cover  him  with  gloom  ?  Why  should  he  not  be  happy  ? 
Does  he  not  possess  all  the  elements  of  pure  and  perma- 
nent felicity  ?  Let  us,  brethren,  carefully  examine  into 
this  matter.  The  elements  of  Christian  happiness  are — 
1.  A  guiltless  conscience.  No  man  can  be  happy 
with  an  upbraiding  conscience.  Let  Belshazzar,  the 
impious  King  of  the  Chaldeans,  amid  the  splendor 
and  revelry  of  his  palace,  with  changed  countenance, 
loosened  joints,  and  trembling  knees,  bear  testimony 
on  this  point.  What  has  caused  his  sudden  agitation 
and  panic  ?  The  fingers  of  a  man's  hand  have  in- 
scribed on  the  wall  of  his  palace  mystic  characters, 
which  the  wise  men  of  Babylon  cannot  read.  For 
aught  that  is  known,  they  may  predict  the  speedy  de- 
liverance of  the  king  from  the  besieging  army  of  the 
Medes,  a  long  and  prosperous  reign,  and  the  perpetu- 
ation of  his  dynasty ;  but  conscience,  calling  to  re- 
membrance his  intemperance,  impiety,  and  presump- 
tion, changes  him  into  a  coward,  and  fills  him  with 
remorse  and  consternation.  Peter,  after  the  most 
boastful  protestations  of  attachment  to  his  Master, 
denied  him  at  the  first  approach  of  danger,  and  just 


HAPPY    CHRISTIANS.  75 

as  be  was  going  to  lay  down  his  life  for  the  disciples. 
Jesus  turned  a  grieved,  anxious,  compassionate  look 
on  erring  Peter  ;  and  the  keenness  of  his  remorse  and 
the  bitterness  of  his  tears,  should  suffice  to  convince 
us  of  the  value  of  a  guiltless  conscience.  And  who, 
beside  a  faithful  Christian,  possesses  this  blessing? 
Walking  iu  the  ordinances  and  commandments  of  the 
Lord,  he  has  a  conscience  void  of  offence  toward  men, 
and  toward  God.  "  He  that  keepeth  the  law,  happy 
is  he."  The  Christian  may  be  falsely  charged,  his 
motives  may  be  misunderstood  or  misrepresented,  and 
all  men  may  hold  him  iu  derision ;  but,  like  the  moun- 
tain top,  towering  above  clouds  and  storms,  he  is  in 
perpetual  sunshine — enjoys  the  smile  of  his  own  con- 
science, and  the  approbation  of  God.  Of  other  bless- 
ings he  may  be  deprived,  by  the  malice  of  foes,  or  the 
chances  of  fortune ;  but  of  a  peaceful  conscience, 
neither  men  nor  devils,  neither  fire  nor  sword,  nor 
disease,  nor  death  can  deprive  him.  Other  posses- 
sions need  to  be  insured  on  earth,  but  this  is  insured 
in  Heaven.  "  O  that  thou  hadst  hearkened  to  my 
commandments  !"  said  God  to  rebellious  Israel,  "  then 
had  thy  peace  been  as  a  river,  and  thy  righteousness 
as  the  waves  of  the  sea."  Behold  the  majestic  Mis- 
sissippi, as  its  current,  deep,  wide,  and  rapid,  rolls 
on  to  the  ocean — so  abundant,  flowing,  and  exhaust- 
less  is  the  peace  of  the  man  who  hearkens  to  God's 
commandments. 

'2.  A  clear  ami  abiding  conviction  that  God  reigns 
in  wisdom,   righteousness,  and  faitltfulncss,  over  all 


76  HAPPY    CHRISTIANS. 

his  works.  In  a  world  like  this,  affliction,  soon  or 
late,  must  come,  and  come  to  all.  Disappointments, 
losses,  disease,  pain,  and  sorrows  are  the  lot  of  mor- 
tals; and  neither  faith,  nor  piety,  nor  prudence  can 
deliver  us  from  it.  "  No  chastening  for  the  present 
seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but  grievous."  To  see  our 
property,  which  we  have  earned  by  toil,  and  amassed 
by  economy,  squandered  by  dishonest  agents ;  to  bury 
our  cherished  companions,  or  our  idolized  children ; 
or  to  be  doomed  to  experience  the  slow,  painful  rava- 
ges of  incurable  disease,  is  afflictive ;  and  nothing  can 
reconcile  us  to  the  calamity  but  the  assurance  that  it 
is  a  divine  dispensation,  wisely  and  graciously  designed 
for  our  spiritual  good.  This  assurance  every  sincere 
Christian  may  possess.  Afflictions  are  among  the 
<(  all  things"  which  "  work  together  for  good  to  them 
that  love  God."  Chastisement  yields  the  "  peaceful 
fruit  of  righteousness  unto  them  which  are  exercised 
thereby."  Afflictions,  light  and  momentary,  work 
out  for  the  Christian  "  a  far  more  exceeding,  and 
eternal  weight  of  glory."  This  persuasion  is  emi- 
nently adapted  to  quell  the  murmurings,  to  dissipate 
the  fears,  and  to  soothe  the  griefs  of  a  pious  heart. 
The  patriarch  Job  knew  and  exemplified  its  sustain- 
ing influence.  "  The  Lord,"  he  said,  with  a  grateful 
heart,  "  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away" — the 
Sabean  and  Chaldean  banditti,  who  plundered  him  of 
his  oxen,  asses,  and  camels ;  the  fire  from  Heaven 
which  consumed  his  sheep  ;  and  the  tornado  which 
buried  his  sons  and  daughters,  in  the  hour  of  their 


HAPPY    CHRISTIANS.  77 

festivity,  under  the  ruins  of  their  eldest  brother's 
house,  were  but  ministers,  unconsciously  fulfilling  Je- 
hovah's will — "  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  ;  blessed," 
continued  the  afflicted  man,  in  pious  resignation, 
"  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord."*  We  have  in 
the  history  of  Paul,  the  apostle,  another  striking  il- 
lustration of  the  comforting  power  of  this  conviction. 
This  eminent  servant  of  Christ  had  a  thorn  in  the 
flesh — sonic  bodily  affliction  which  was  paiuful,  rank- 
ling, and  intolerable  as  a  thorn  buried  and  festering 
in  the  flesh.  He  besought  the  Lord  that  it  might  de- 
part from  him.  The  Lord  did  not  comply  with  his 
request,  but  did  what  was  better.  He  promised  to 
his  servant  grace  to  sustain  him  under  his  affliction, 
and  disclosed  to  him  its  disciplinary  tendency.  There 
was  given  to  him  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  the  messenger 
of  Satan  to  buffet  him,  lest  he  should  be  exalted 
above  measure.  "  Therefore,"  said  the  apostle,  "  I 
take  pleasure  iu  infirmities,  in  reproaches,  in  necessi- 
ties, in  persecutions,  iu  distresses  for  Christ's  sake ; 
for  when  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong.''!  My  breth- 
ren, if  we  see  Christ  on  the  throne,  all  beings,  whether 
good  or  bad,  and  all  events,  whether  joyous  or  afflic- 
tive, under  his  control ;  and  all  ruled  and  ordered  by 
him  for  the  good  of  his  church,  and  the  glory  of  his 
name,  we  may  well  be  submissive  and  cheerful  in  the 
darkest  hour  of  calamity.  "  The  Lord  reigneth ;  let 
the  earth  rejoice ;  let  the  multitude  of  isles  be  glad 
thereof." 

*  Jobi:  21.  f  2  Cor.  xii :  11. 


78  HAPPY    CHRISTIANS. 

3.  Active  efforts  to  do  good.  Idleness  is  the  bane 
of  spiritual  as  well  as  of  natural  enjoyment.  The 
possessor  of  millions  must  pine  in  wretchedness  if  he 
has  no  employment  to  occupy  his  mind,  and  give 
healthful,  invigorating  exercise  to  the  body.  The 
Christian  who  seeks  mainly  his  own  enjoyment,  will 
miss  the  object  of  his  pursuit.  Christian  happiness 
is  incidental  to  proper  Christian  activity — the  neces- 
sary fruit  of  well-doing.  "  Happy  is  he  that  hath  mercy 
on  the  poor."*  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  re- 
ceive."! There  is  a  blessedness  in  receiving,  but  a  high- 
er, nobler  blessedness  in  doing  and  imparting  good.  The 
Christian,  who  supplies  the  wants  of  the  needy,  or 
saves  a  soul  from  death,  tastes  a  bliss  which  the  sel- 
fish or  indolent  can  never  know.  The  desire  of  use- 
fulness is  among  the  elements  of  Christian  character — 
an  instinctive  and  mighty  impulse  of  a  new-born  soul  ; 
and  the  opportunities  of  usefulness,  which  abound  in 
the  world,  are  to  be  ranked  among  the  high  and 
precious  privileges  of  the  sons  of  grace.  It  will  gen- 
erally, perhaps  invariably,  be  found  that  the  happi- 
ness of  the  Christian  is  proportionate  to  the  disinter- 
estedness and  diligence  of  his  efforts  to  do  good.  Show 
me  a  Christian  full  of  doubts,  gloom,  and  trouble,  and 
I  can  pretty  certainly  draw  his  character.  He  is  a 
religious  epicure,  seeking  enjoyment  rather  than  use- 
fulness. He  attends  on  religious  privileges  that  he 
may  be  fed ;  but  he  desires  to  be  fed,  not  that  he  may 

*  Prov.  xiv  :  21.  t  Ac*8  xx  :  35. 


HAPPY  CHRISTIANS.  79 

be  strengthened  for  the  performance  of  duty,  but  for 
the  gratification  of  feeding;  and  nothing  can  satisfy 
his  appetite  but  high-seasoned  and  stimulating  food. 
No  wonder  that  he  should  become  a  religious  dyspep- 
tic, emaciated,  feeble,  and  an  intolerable  self-burden. 
But,  if  I  wished  to  show  you  a  happy  Christian,  I 
would  select  one  who  is  diligent  in  business,  as  well 
as  fervent  iu  spirit ;  and  who  is  diligent  in  business 
that  he  may  increase  the  means  and  the  measure  of 
his  usefulness,  and  more  abundantly  glorify  his  Lord. 
4.  A  confirmed  hope  of  Heaven.  "  If  in  this  life 
only  we  have  hope  in  Christ,  we  are  of  all  men  most 
miserable."  Subjected  as  the  Christian  is  to  many 
sacrifices,  and  often  to  severe  persecutions  on  earth, 
if  he  were  not  sustained  and  comforted  by  a  hope  be- 
yond the  tomb,  he  would  be  the  most  wretched  and 
pitiable  of  men.  The  hope  of  endless  rest  lightens 
the  toils  and  burdens  of  life.  The  storm-tossed  mari- 
ner, in  the  darkest  hour  of  peril,  is  cheered  by  the 
prospect  of  reaching  his  destined  port.  Hope,  buoy- 
ant hope,  whispers,  this  tempest  will  be  lulled,  these 
clouds  will  be  dissipated,  favoring  winds  will  fill  the 
sails,  and  soon  the  smile  and  embrace  of  loved  ones 
will  make  amends  for  all  this  toil  and  danger.  Man 
is  navigating  the  sea  of  life.  Storms,  whirlpools,  and 
breakers  abound  in  this  ocean.  How  cheerless  and 
melancholy  would  his  lot  be  had  he  no  hope  of  reach- 
ing the  haven  of  security  and  rest  ?  This  hope  the 
Christian  enjoys.  He  possesses  "  good  hope  through 
grace  " — the  hope  of  "  an  inheritance,  incorruptible, 


80  HAPPY    CHRISTIANS. 

undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away  " — a  hope  founded 
on  the  divine  promises,  and  confirmed  by  the  divine 
oath — a  hope  which  is  "  as  an  anchor  of  the  soul,  both 
sure  and  steadfast,  and  which  entereth  into  that  with- 
in the  veil." 

"  A  hope  so  much  divine, 
May  trials  well  endure." 

The  Christian  may  have  toils  here,  but  he  shall 
have  rest  in  Heaven — he  may  have  sorrows  here,  but 
he  shall  have  joys  in  Heaven — he  may  have  persecu- 
tions here,  but  he  shall  have  a  crown  in  Heaven — he 
shall  have  death  here,  but  he  will  have  eternal  life  in 
Heaven ;  and  the  firm  and  vivid  hope  of  Heaven  can 
sweeten  the  toils,  heal  the  sorrows,  and  blunt  the  per- 
secutions of  earth,  and  triumph  over  the  fear  of  death. 

5.  The  love  of  God  in  the  heart.  "  The  love  of 
God  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
which  is  given  unto  us."*  It  is  not  easy  to  explain 
fully  the  nature  of  this  operation :  it  may  be  expe- 
rienced, but  not  described.  It  is  a  sense  of  the  divine 
favor,  produced  by  the  indwelling  influence  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  filling  the  heart  with  gratitude,  love,  and 
joy.  To  this  blessed  influence  the  Christian  is  no 
stranger.  The  Holy  Ghost  dwells  with  him  to  com- 
fort, refresh,  and  invigorate  him.  He  knows,  by  sweet 
experience,  that  "  the  kingdom  of  God,"  is  not  only 
"  righteousness,"  but  "  peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
G-host."t  He  has  "  fellowship  with  the  Father,  and 

*Rom.  v:6.  f  Rom.  xiv:  17. 


HAPPY    CHRISTIANS.  81 

with  his  Son  Jesus  Christ.''*  Sceptics,  worldlings, 
and  formalists  may  deride  him  as  a  visionary  ;  but  he 
cannot  be  cheated  out  of  his  own  experience.  He 
knows  that  he  has  found  in  the  service  of  Christ,  and 
in  the  pervasive,  subduing  influence  of  his  Spirit,  a 
light,  a  tranquillity,  a  joy,  a  rapture,  and  an  elevation 
above  the  world,  which  could  be  found  no  where  else. 
How  delightful  was  the  hour  when  first,  with  a  heart 
crushed  by  a  sense  of  its  vilencssand  guilt,  he  trusted 
in  Jesus,  saw  his  fullness  and  glory,  felt  his  pardon- 
ing love,  and,  with  unutterable  affection,  devoted  him- 
self to  his  service.  It  was  the  joy  of  an  espousal — 
the  blessedness  of  a  new  and  spiritual  existence — 
which  may  well  be  described  as  "  joy  unspeakable, 
and  full  of  glory."  The  Christian  may,  in  after  years, 
lament  the  absence  of  that  ardent  affection  and  lively 
joy  which  characterized  his  conversion  to  Christ ;  but 
if  he  has  less  ardor,  he  has  more  stability,  and  if  he 
has  less  joy,  he  has  more  tranquillity.  If  ho  is,  as  he 
ought  to  be,  a  growing  Christian,  the  love  of  God  in 
his  heart  will  be  a  perennial  fountain  of  peace  and 
joy — a  fountain  which  no  earthly  vicissitudes  can 
dry  or  pollute.  With  the  pious  Newton,  he  may 
sing— 

•'  While  blessed  with  a  sense  of  his  love, 

A  palace  a  toy  would  appear; 
And  prisons  would  palaces  prove, 

If  Jesus  would  dwell  with  me  there." 

*  1  John  i :  .'$. 


82  UAPPY    CHRISTIANS. 

Concerning  Christian  happiness  I  have  two  remarks 
to  make — 

1 .  It  is  not  perfect,  either  in  kind  or  degree.    Per- 
fect bliss  belongs  to  Heaven — is  the  consummation  of 
the  Christian's  hope.     The  purest  joy  of  the  believer 
in  the  flesh  is  tainted  with  self  and  the  world  ;  and  his 
highest  rapture  falls  far  short  of  the  heavenly  felicity. 
He  learns  from  his  own  experience,  as  well  as  from 
the  Scriptures,  that  the  present  life  is  a  mixture  of 
joy  and  sorrow,  hope  and  fear,  conflict  and  triumph, 
sunshine  and  clouds;  and  he  is,  or,  at  least,  aims  to 
be,  content  with  such  enjoyments  as  are  allotted  him 
on  earth,  and  to  wait  for  his  full  fruition  in  heaven. 

2.  It  is  greatly  modified  by  natural  temperament. 
Conversion  does  not  involve  the  change  of  a  man's 
natural  temperament.     If,  in  consequence  of  an  unfor- 
tunate physical  organization, he  was,  before  conversion, 
gloomy,  desponding  and  unhappy,  he  will  not  only  re- 
tain this  temperament  after  his  change,  but  his  piety 
will  receive  a  coloring  from  it.       This  observation  is 
true  of   every  possible    development  of  the   natural 
temper.     Christian  happiness  is  sometimes  diminished, 
or,  for  a  season,  entirely  prevented — sometimes  greatly 
increased — and   sometimes  rendered  quite  equivocal, 
by  the  physical  temperament.      If  a  man's  temper  is 
timid,  desponding  and  gloomy,  his  piety,  however  con- 
scientious and  consistent,  is  likely  to  yield  him  but 
little  enjoyment.       If  his  temperament  is  confiding, 
sanguine  and  cheerful,  his  mind  will  readily  receive 
religious  comfort,  and  derive  encouragement  from  the 


HAPPY     CHRISTIANS.  83 

divine  promises  or  providences.  If  his  mind  is  of  a 
subtle,  metaphysical,  disputatious  turn,  his  piety  will 
almost  certainly  prove  equivocal,  and  his  enjoyment 
unsatisfactory. 

In  closing,  I  notice  four  classes  of  persons — 

1 .  Some  are  happy  but  are  not  Christians.     They 
are  of  a  fortunate  temperament,  healthful,  prosperous 
and  cheerful ;  but  they  do  not  fear  God,  nor  trust  in 
Christ,  nor  even  desire  to  be  religious.     Their  happi- 
ness is  worldly,  unsubstantial,  and   evanescent;  and 
yet  renouncing  God  and  Heaven,  they  take  it  as  their 
best,  their  only  portion. 

2.  Some  are  Christians,  but  not  happy.     I  have 
already  described  this  class.     Their  condition  is  safe, 
but  unenviable.     I  have  known  many  such  Christians 
— sincere,  conscientious  and  faithful,  a  burden  to  them- 
selves, and  of  no  great  use  in   the  world — worthy,  in- 
deed, of  our-confidcnce  and  love,  but  at  the  same  time 
claiming  mir  pity  and  indulgence. 

3.  Sf»ne  arc  neither  Christians  nor  happy.     This 
numerous  class   seek  happiness  from   the  world,  and 
find  it  not.      Forsaking  the  fountain  of  living  waters, 
they  hew  for  them  selves  broken  cisterns,  which   can 
hold  no  water.       They  toil,  build,  plant,  accumulate, 
travel,  study,  feast,  dance  ;   but  find  by  painful  expe- 
rience the  truth  of  Solomon's  words — "All  is  vanity, 
and  vexation  of  spirit." 

4.  Sonic  arc  happy  Christians.      This  cla.«s  I  have 
aimed  particularly  to  describe.       1   cannot,  however, 
more  appropriately  conclude    this    Lecture    than  by 


84  HAPPY  CHXISTIANS. 

giving  ar  brief  account  of  an  interesting  specimen  of 
this  class  of  Christians.  Sister  GRACE  BLISS  was  poor 
in  the  things  of  this  world,  but  "  rich  in  faith" — "rich 
toward  God."  For  the  long  period  of  twenty  years 
she  suffered  from  the  ravages  of  a  slow,  painful,  and 
incurable  disease.  She  was  seldom  entirely  free  from 
suffering,  and  never  from  debility.  Most  of  the  time, 
she  was  confined  to  her  room,  frequently  to  her  bed, 
and  sometimes  her  pain  was  severe.  It  was,  however, 
at  all  times,  a  source  of  pleasure  and  profit  to  visit 
her  room.  To  say  that  she  was  resigned  would  con- 
vey a  very  inadequate  conception  of  the  state  of  her 
mind.  She  was  cheerful — happy — joyous.  No  mur- 
muring word  ever  escaped  her  lips.  No  cloud  of  de- 
spondence ever  darkened  her  countenance.  She  was 
supported  mainly  by  the  kindness  of  friends  whom 
her  gentle  and  fond  spirit  had  won,  and  who  found 
pleasure  in  supplying  her  few  wants ;  and  this  kind- 
ness made  the  most  delightful  impression  on  her  heart, 
and  called  forth  the  warmest  utterances  of  gratitude. 
Cut  off  by  her  situation  from  all  active  participation 
in  efforts  for  the  promotion  of  religion,  she  did  not 
cease  to  cherish  an  earnest  interest  in  the  prosperity 
of  the  church  of  which  she  was  a  member,  and  the 
triumphs  of  evangelical  piety  in  the  world ;  and  she 
took  great  pleasure  in  contributing  a  pittance  from 
her  very  limited  resources  to  the  promotion  of  the 
cause  of  Christ.  The  philosopher  would  have  found 
it  profitable  to  visit  her  lowly  dwelling.  There  he 
might  have  learned,  better  than  he  could  have  learned 


HAPPY  CHRISTIANS.  85 

in  almost  any  other  place,  lessons  of  deep  import — 
the  power,  excellence  and  value  of  the  Gospel — the 
essential  dignity  of  true  holiness — the  sustaining,  com- 
ferting  power  of  divine  grace— and  the  utter  worth- 
lessness  of  all  earthly  wealth  and  grandeur  in  compari- 
son with  the  benefits  of  sincere  piety. 

But  the  character  of  this  lovely  saint  may  be  best 
illustrated  by  a  story  which  I  have  heard  concerning 
her.  It  bears  striking  signs  of  verisimilitude.  Mr. 
Markwcll,  a  pious  and  worthy  man,  resided  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Grace  Bliss.  He  knew  her  well, 
and  could  but  wonder  at  her  uniform  cheerfulness  in 
poverty  and  suffering.  He  had  an  interesting  group 
of  children,  for  whose  happiness,  and,  especially,  moral 
und  religions  improvement,  he  felt  constant  solicitude. 
One  day  he  said,  "  My  children,  to-morrow  I  will  take 
you  to  sec  a  Womler,  but  I  will  not  let  you  know 
what  it  is,  till  you  see  it."  The  children  were  greatly 
delighted  at  the  prospect  of  seeing  a  sight,  and  their 
fancies  were  busily  employed  to  find  out  what  it  might 
be.  One  guessed  that  it  was  a  panorama — another 
that  it  was  a  menagerie — James  thought  it  must  be 
a  fine  picture — and  little  Jennie  that  it  was  a  pretty 
landscape.  All  looked  forward  with  irrepressible  de- 
sire to  the  time  when  they  should  go  to  see  the  H  o;t- 
dn-.  At  length  the  longed-for  Lour  arrived,  and  Mr. 
Markwell,bt  the  head  of  his  gleeful  band,  set  out  to 
show  his  children  the  promised  sight.  His  steps  were 
directed  to  an  obscure  and  uninviting  sulturb  of  the 
city.  As  they  turned  one  street  after  another,  among 


86  HAPPY    CHRISTIANS. 

the  lowly  and  uncomfortable  looking  dwellings,  the 
children  began  to  inquire,  "  What  can  father  find  in 
this  part  of  the  city  worth  seeing  ?"  Having  at  last 
reached  a  low,  dilapidated  and  cheerless  looking  shed, 
Mr.  Markwell  stopped,  and  said,  "  My  children,  see 
that  building — how  low,  and  mean  it  looks — Do  you 
think  that  any  body  living  in  such  a  house  as  this  can 
be  happy?"  They  all  replied,  "  No  !"  It  is  not  sur- 
prising they  should  have  thought  so.  Their  own  taste- 
ful, neat  and  spacious  home,  the  abode  of  love  and 
peace,  was  so  unlike  this  comfortless  shanty.  "  I  have 
brought  you  here,  my  dear  children,"  continued  Mr. 
Markwell,  "  that  you  may  see  that  happiness  don't 
depend  on  fine  houses,  and  fine  furniture,  but  that  one 
may  be  happy  in  poverty  and  suffering."  They  en- 
tered the  humble  dwelling.  The  cheap  and  scanty 
furniture  of  the  room  was  clean,  and  well  arranged, 
for  the  hand  of  a  fond  and  faithful  sister,  the  insepa- 
rable companion  of  Grace,  was  there.  On  a  low  cot, 
in  one  corner  of  the  room,  lay  the  Wonder — Miss 
Grace  Bliss — emaciated,  pale,  feeble,  suffering  from 
a  pain  in  her  breast,  and  a  difficulty  of  respiration. 
After  the  usual  courtesies,  Mr.  Markwell  said,  ':  Miss 
Bliss,  I  have  brought  my  children  here,  that  you  may 
teach  them  that  a  person  in  your  situation  can  be  hap- 
py." "  My  dear  children,"  said  she,  as  the  habitual 
serenity  of  her  countenance  changed  into  a  radiant 
smile,  and  the  big  tears  glistened  in  her  eyes,  "  I  am 
happy,  and  I  have  great  cause  to  be.  You  see  me 
lying  on  this  bed,  poor,  weak  and  suffering ;  but  the 


HAPPY     CHRISTIANS.  87 

Lord  is  very  kind  to  me.  I  have  many  good  friends, 
who  supply  my  wants — I  have  an  angel  sister,  who 
nurses  me — and  I  have  a  Bible,  in  which  I  can  read 
God's  precious  word.  I  hope  soon  to  die,  and  go  to 
heaven.  There  I  shall  see  Jesus — that's  enough  !  I 
used  to  beguile  many  a  tedious  hour  in  singing — I 
can't  sing  now — my  voice  has  failed — but  there  I 
shall  sing  like  an  angel.  Even  now,  children,  I  have 
sweet  foretastes  of  heaven.  In  the  still  hours  of  the 
night,  I  pray  to  my  heavenly  Father,  and  he  fills  my 
heart  with  love,  peace  and  joy.  I  seem  to  be  on  the 
very  verge  of  heaven.  I  would  not  change  places 
with  a  king."  She  then  repeated,  with  deep  feeling, 
the  beautiful  lines  of  Wesley  : — 

"  0,  what  are  all  my  sufferings  hero, 

If,  Lord,  thou  count  me  meet, 
With  that  enraptured  host  t'  appear, 
And  worship  at  thy  feet." 

Mr.  Markwcll  said  to  her,  "  Sister  Grace,  for  what 
would  you  exchange  your  hope  in  Christ  ?"  "  For 
nothing,"  was  her  prompt  reply,  "but  a  scat  at  the 
right  hand  of  God."  "  Well,"  continued  he,  if  the 
Lord  would  grant  you  one  wish,  what  would  it  be  ?" 
The  children  thought,  surely,  she  would  wish  for 
health,  or  a  good  house,  or  some  worldly  blessing,  and 
even  Mr.  RLirkwcll-  supposed  that  she  would  wi>h  for 
an  increase  of  faith,  or  joy,  or  some  spiritual  blosing; 
but  she  answered,  with  an  earnestness  peculiar  to  her- 
self, "  I  would  wish  that  all  the  world  might  love 
CMirist.  ' 


88  HAPPY   CHRISTIANS. 

The  children,  after  having  placed  in  the  hands  of 
Miss  Grace  the  money  which  their  father  had  given 
them  to  pay  for  seeing  the  Wonder,  returned  to  their 
home  as  much  pleased  as  if  they  had  seen  a  menage- 
rie, a  panorama,  or  a  palace,  and  far  more  instructed 
and  benefitted. 

Years  have  passed  away  since  the  death  of  Grace 
Bliss.  It  was  as  peaceful  as  her  life  had  been  godly. 
Her  bodily  struggle  was  long  and  severe,  but  her  soul 
continued  cloudless,  calm,  and  joyous.  The  grass  has 
grown  luxuriantly  over  her  grave.  No  monument 
marks  the  resting  place  of  her  dust.  But  she  is  still 
held  in  fragrant  remembrance  by  many  who  knew  her. 

And  now,  my  dear  hearers,  we  should  all  be  happy 
Christians.  God  has  made  ample  provision  for  our 
spiritual  enjoyment.  "  The  word  of  grace,"  "  the 
throne  of  grace,"  and  "  the  Spirit  of  Grace,"  are  all 
accessible  to  us.  With  such  sources  of  consolation 
open  to  us,  we  may  well  endure  all  the  ills  of  life.  If 
you  are  happy  Christians,  I  sincerely  congratulate 
you.  Let  us  keep  the  prize  of  our  high  calling  before 
us;  and,  with  steady,  undiverted  feet,  press  towards 
it.  A  pleasant  service,  and  unfailing  sources  of  con- 
solation here,  with  a  glorious  reward  hereafter,  should 
surely  satisfy  us.  "  May  the  peace  of  God,  which 
passeth  all  understanding,  keep  your  hearts  and  minds 
through  Christ  Jesus."  Amen. 


LECTURE  V. 

D5TBTING     CHRISTIANS. 

CHRISTIANS,  even  the  best,  are,  in  this  world,  im- 
perfect. As  there  are  no  two  plants  or  animals,  so 
there  are  no  two  Christians  exactly  alike.  Moral  ex- 
cellences and  defects  are  combined  in  believers  in  end- 
less variety.  All  bear  the  image  of  Christ,  but  all  do 
not  resemble  him  in  the  same  degree,  nor  reflect  the 
same  lineaments  of  his  character.  One  is  most  re- 
markable for  humility,  another  for  love,  a  third  for 
devotion,  a  fourth  for  conscientiousness,  and  so  on, 
through  the  whole  circle  of  features  which  constitute 
"  the  beauty  of  holiness."  All  these  qualities  are 
greatly  modified  by  constitution,  early  discipline, 
habits,  associations,  and  many  other  influences.  Having 
described  four  classes  of  Good,  I  shall  now  proceed  to 
delineate  several  classes  of  Defective  Christians. 

I  begin  with  Doubting  Christians.  Of  this  class 
brother  Thomas  Little-faith  is  a  pretty  fair  speci- 
men. Having  been  long,  and  somewhat  intimately 
acquainted  with  him,  and  having  had  many  opportu- 
nities of  observing  his  peculiarities,  I  will  describe 
him,  as  the  representative  of  his  class. 

Brother  Little-faith  is  a  good  num.     All  his  neigh- 


90  DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS. 

bors  give  him  credit  for  sincerity,  conscientiousness, 
and  uprightness  of  conduct.  He  is  no  stracger  to  tho 
power  of  divine  grace.  His  religious  experience  is 
deep,  various  and  evangelical.  He  wept  over  his  sins, 
fled  to  Christ  for  refuge,  enjoyed  the  consolations  of 
the  Gospel,  and  earnestly  dedicated  his  powers  and 
possessions  to  the  service  of  the  Lord.  He  was  cor- 
dially admitted  into  church  fellowship,  and  has  since 
done  nothing  to  demand  his  expulsion  from  it,  or  to 
bring  a  strong  suspicion  on  the  genuineness  of  his 
piety. 

But  brother  Little-faith  is  a  great  doubter.  He 
does  not  question  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures, 
the  divinity  of  Christ,  the  necessity  of  regeneration, 
and  the  sanctifying  influence  of  the  Spirit,  or,  indeed, 
any  vital  doctrine  of  Christianity.  All  his  feelings 
and  habits  incline  him  to  the  orthodox  side  in  reli- 
gion. His  doubts  have  respect,  not  to  divine  truth, 
but  to  his  own  spiritual  state — to  the  genuineness  of 
his"  piety.  He  is  generally,  more  or  less,  uncertain 
whether  he  is  a  child  of  grace.  He  has  hours  of  light 
and  confidence,  but  usually  they  are  succeeded  by  days 
of  depression  and  gloom.  His  doubts  are  no  part  of  his 
piety;  but  a  defect  and  blemish  in  his  character. 
Had  he  more  grace,  he  would  have  fewer  doubts  ;  and 
had  he  fewer  doubts,  he  would  be  a  better  Christian. 

I  am  aware  that  some  Christian  teachers  maintain 
that  doubts  are  incompatible  with  a  state  of  piety. 
"  Can  a  man,"  they  ask,  "  pass  from  darkness  to 
light,  from  d?ath  to  life,  without  knowing  it  ?"  They 


DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS.  91 

consider  faith  to  be  essentially  of  the  nature  of  as- 
surance. The  subject  is  entitled  to  candid  conside- 
ration. Certainly,  persons,  having  a  high  reputation 
for  piety,  have  been  annoyed  by  doubts  of  their 
acceptance  with  God.  It  will,  perhaps,  be  difficult  to 
find  a  man,  of  serious,  earnest  piety,  who  has  not  oc- 
casionally had  his  mind  clouded  with  doubts.  If 
doubts  are  inconsistent  with  the  genuineness  of  piety, 
brother  Little-faith  can  lay  no  claim  to  it — a  conclu- 
sion to  which  he  might  be  easily  led.  I  will  endeavor 
to  place  this  matter  in  a  Scriptural  light. 

Faith,  like  other  Christian  graces,  is,  in  the  begin- 
ning, generally  imperfect  and  feeble.  It  is  capable 
of  growth,  and  invigoration.  "  The  apostles  said  unto 
the  Lord,  Increase  our  faith."*  "We  are  bound  to 
thank  God  always  for  you,  brethren,"  wrote  Paul  to 
the  church  of  the  Thessalonians,  "  as  it  is  meet,  be- 
cause your  faith  grmccth  exceedingly."!  But  faith, 
which  excludes  all  doubt,  is  full  assurance — matured 
faith — and  admits  of  no  increase.  In  the  Scriptures 
wo  read  of  "  weak  faith,"  "  strong  faith,"  and  "  the 
full  assurance  of  faith."  It  is  admitted  that  the 
"  faith"  referred  to  in  these  passages  is  not  a  persua- 
sion of  acceptance  with  God,  but  of  the  truth  of  his 
word  ;  nevertheless,  any  doubt  of  the  truth  of  his  word, 
must  imply  a  corresponding  doubt  of  acceptance  with 
him.  If  faith  is  weak — attended  with  doubts — tlion 
the  persuasion  of  acceptance  with  God  is  equally 

*  Luke  xvii :  v.  f  li  Thrss.  i :  8. 


92  DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS. 

weak  and  unsatisfactory.  If  faith  grows, .then  the 
persuasion  of  acceptance  with  God  increases.  And, 
finally,  if  faith  is  matured  into  full  assurance,  then 
the  persuasion  of  acceptance  with  God  rises  to  an  un- 
doubting  conviction.  This  view  of  faith  corresponds 
with  the  exhortations  to  self-examination,  and  the  cau- 
tions against  self  deception,  with  which  the  Scriptures 
abound.  "  Let  no  man  deceive  himself."*  "  Examine 
yourselves  whether  ye  be  in  the  faith ;  prove  your  own 
selves.  Know  ye  not  your  own  selves,  how  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  in  you,  except  ye  be  reprobates."!  But  if 
faith  implies  assurance — certainty — there  is  no  need 
that  a  believer  should  examine,  or  try  himself.  He 
knows  that  he  is  converted — and  needs  not  inquire 
into  his  state.  It  would  be  about  as  reasonable  to  ex- 
hort a  man  to  examine  whether  he  has  a  head  on  his 
shoulders  as  whether  he  is  possessed  of  saving  faith, 
if  one  is  as  certain  as  the  other.  What  a  man  knows, 
he  cannot  doubt ;  and  what  he  does  not  doubt  can  de- 
mand no  examination — no  farther  proof.  Every  vital 
Christian  knows  that  he  has  been  the  subject  of  a 
change — a  great,  internal  and  abiding  change — but 
whether  it  is  that  divine,  gracious  change  termed  in 
the  Scriptures  the  new  birth,  or  conversion,  he  may  be 
in  painful  uncertainty.  He  knows  that  he  has  faith, 
but  whether  it  is  that  soul  purifying  faith — the  "faith 
of  God's  elect" — which  is  inseparable  from  the  state 
of  salvation,  he  may  seriously  doubt.  Indeed,  faith, 
and  a  consequent  persuasion  of  acceptance  with  God, 

*  1  Cor.  iii ;  18.  t  2  Cor.  xiii :  5 


DOUBTING   CHRISTIANS.  93 

exists  in  every  conceivable  degree,  from  the  trembling 
hope  of  the  young  convert  to  the  assured  confidence 
of  the  matured  Christian.  Quite  certain  I  am,  too, 
that  the  persuasion  of  one's  acceptance  with  God,  does 
not  always  keep  pace  with  the  assurance  that  Chris- 
tianity is  true.  There  may  be  a  strong  conviction  of 
the  truth  of  the  Scriptures,  and  this  conviction  may 
be  overborne  by  the  turbulent  propensities  of  an  uu- 
sanctified  nature.  The  faith  which  justifies  is  not 
mere  speculation — a  cold  assent  to  the  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity— but  a  cordial  embracing  of  the  Gospel  as  the 
means  of  deliverance  from  sin  and  guilt — an  exercise 
which  supposes  repentance — a  new  heart — an  obedient 
spirit.  And  whether  our  faith  is  of  this  character 
may  well  awaken  intense  anxiety,  lead  to  thorough 
self-examination,  and  be  involved  in  serious  doubts. 

But  to  return  to  the  character  of  brother  Little- 
faith.  We  are  naturally  led  to  inquire  what  are  the 
aourccs  of  his  distressing  doubts  ?  I  am  not  so 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  his  life  as  to  be  confident 
of  all  the  causes  of  his  moral  infirmity  :  I  am,  how- 
ever, quite  certain  as  to  some  of  them. 

His  doubts  may  be  traced  in  part  to  his  natural 
temperament. 

This  is  gloomy  and  desponding.  He  looks  at  the 
dark  side  of  every  thing.  He  sees  nothing  but  spots 
on  the  sun ;  and  these,  he  imagines,  are  porten- 
tous of  dreadful  calamities.  He  in  full  of  painful 
anticipations  as  to  the  future:  ho  dreads  famine — 


94  DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS. 

dreads  pestilence— dreads  wars — and  dreads  the 
overthrow  of  all  order  and  piety.  Nothing  pre- 
vented him  from  becoming  a  Millerite,  but  his  good 
fortune  to  reside  beyond  the  excitement  created  by 
the  Advent  doctrine.  A  few  straggling  tracts  and 
papers  devoted  to  the  support  of  Mr.  Miller's  pecu- 
liar notions  reached  him,  and  filled  his  mind  with 
anxiety.  For  a  while  he  could  talk  of  nothing  but 
the  second  Advent,  and  though  he  professed  to  reject 
the  new  doctrine,  it  was  plain  that  he  was  in  doubt 
on  the  subject.  No  wonder  that  he  should  contem- 
plate Christianity  under  the  most  forbidding  aspects, 
and  his  own  character  in  the  most  discouraging  light. 
That  he  should  be  more  impressed  by  the  threaten- 
ings  than  the  promises  of  the  Gospel,  by  the  diffi- 
culties than  the  privileges  of  religion,  is  in  perfect 
harmony  with  his  natural  temper.  That  he  should 
be  more  encouraged  by  his  attainments  than  dispirit- 
ed by  his  imperfections,  would  imply  a  physical 
change,  which  grace  does  not  effect. 

The  doubts  of  brother  Little-faith  spring  in  a 
measure  from  false  views  of  the  evangelic  scheme  of 
salvation.  Whether  from  erroneous  teaching,  or 
from  the  unfortunate  tendency  of  his  mind,  I  cannot 
say ;  but  I  know  he  is  prone  to  seek  comfort  and 
hope,  not  so  much  from  the  perfect  sacrifice  of  Christ, 
the  fullness  of  his  grace,  and  the  faithfulness  of  his 
promise,  as  from  such  marks  of  piety  as  he  can  find 
in  his  heart  and  life.  He  seeks  consolation  in  the 
state  of  his  own  heart,  rather  than  from  the  unfailing 


DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS.  95 

eources  of  it,  which  God  has  opened  by  the  death  of 
his  Son,  and  the  revelations  of  his  grace.  He  does 
not  examine  himself  too  closely,  nor  over-estimate  his 
own  weakness,  imperfections,  and  unworthincss ;  but 
he  does  not  duly  meditate  on  the  fullness  aud  freeness 
of  redeeming  love,  nor  properly  appreciate  the  faithful 
intercession  of  our  great  High  Priest.  His  thoughts 
dwell  on  the  virulence  of  his  disease,  almost  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  divinely-appointed  and  efficacious 
remedy.  If  he  could  be  brought  fully  to  understand 
that  he  must  be  saved,  if  he  is  saved  at  all,  not  by  his 
own  worthiness,  but  the  exercise  of  an  humble,  child- 
like, cordial  trust  in  Christ — a  trust  which  leads  to 
an  earnest  obedience  to  his  commands — he  would 
surely  have  fewer  doubts,  and  more  religious  enjoy- 
ment. But,  alas  for  him !  when  told  of  a  Saviour's 
love,  he  laments  the  hardness  of  his  heart — when  the 
fullness  of  the  Redeemer's  sacrifice  is  set  before  him, 
he  anxiously  searches  in  himself  for  some  warrant  to 
trust  iu  it — when  the  inestimable  privileges  of  the 
Gospel  are  freely  offered  to  him,  he  fears  that  his  uu- 
worthiuess  will  exclude  him  from  all  participation  of 
them — in  short,  wheu  a  free,  and  perfect  salvation  is 
preached  to  him,  his  remembrance  of  his  past  sins, 
und  a  sense  of  his  present  infirmities,  seem  to  hide  it 
from  his  eyes,  or  convert  it  into  a  means  of  more  fear- 
ful condemnation. 

Another  source   of  doubting   to  brother    Thomas 
Little-faith  is  the.  sujyxjscd  inferiority  of  his  oirn  cx~ 
to  that  of  other  Christians.      He  had  a  neih- 


96  DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS. 

bor — Mr.  Wildman — who  had  a  remarkable  expe- 
rience, and  was  fond  of  telling  it.  Mr.  Wildman  had 
a  weak  judgment,  with  an  ardent,  excitable  tempera- 
ment. His  religious  education  had  been  neglected, 
and  he  was  ready  to  embrace  the  most  extravagant 
fancies.  His  experience — if  it  may  so  be  called — was 
certainly  singular.  He  went  to  bed  at  night,  entirely 
unconcerned  on  religious  subjects — fell  asleep,  and 
dreamed  that  he  saw  heaven  opened,  and  many  of  his 
departed  friends  there.  It  was  a  bright,  beautiful 
and  happy  place,  and  Jesus  invited  him  to  enter  in, 
and  share  its  blessedness.  He  made  an  attempt  to 
cross  the  narrow  stream,  which  separated  him  from  the 
joyous  society,  upset  his  boat,  sunk  in  the  stream, 
thought  himself  lost,  and  in  the  struggle  awoke,  in 
deep  distress.  He  was  now  under  strong  conviction  of 
sin.  After  spending  several  hours  in  prayer  for 
mercy,  he  again  fell  asleep,  and  dreamed.  He  thought 
Jesus  came  to  him,  spoke  words  of  consolation,  and 
helped  him  into  heaven,  where  he  heard  the  songs  of 
saints  and  angels  ;  and  he  awoke  in  an  ecstacy.  Ho 
now  thought  himself  converted,  and  gave  indulgence 
to  the  most  rapturous  joy.  I  will  not  affirm  that 
Mr.  Wildman  was  not  converted.  His  experience 
was  exceedingly  visionary  and  unsatisfactory,  though 
he  did  not  appear  to  be  wholly  destitute  of  religious 
knowledge  and  feeling.  His  life  too  proved  to  be  as 
inconsistent  as  his  experience  was  strange.  "Ah," 
said  brother  Little-faith,  "  if  I  had  such  an  expe- 
Wildman,  I  should  be  satisfied — I 


•  DOUBTING  CHRISTIANS.  97 

should  then  knoio  that  I  am  converted."  And  yet 
every  discriminating  Christian  who  knew  the  two  men, 
had  far  greater  confidence  in  the  piety  of  Thomas  Lit- 
tie-faith  than  of  Mr.  Wildman. 

Another  cause  of  the  doubts  of  brother  Little-faith 
is,  certainly,  his  neglect  of  known  duties.  Some  of 
his  neglects  have  come  to  my  knowledge ;  and  these,  I 
fear,  are  but  specimens  of  his  failings.  He  usually 
refuses  to  pray  in  social  prayer-meetings,  though  he 
possesses  a  fair  gift  in  prayer.  Sometimes  he  stays 
away  from  the  prayer-meeting,  lest  he  should  be  called 
on  to  lead  in  the  exercise ;  and  when  he  is  present,  he 
is  apt  to  take  the  most  remote  and  unobserved  seat, 
to  indicate  that  he  is  anxious  not  to  be  invited  to  offer 
prayer.  He  does  not  wholly  neglect  family  worship 
— his  conscience  will  not  permit  him  to  do  that — but 
it  is  generally  a  task  and  burden  tu  him,  and  he  is  glad 
of  any  plausible  apology  for  neglecting  it  altogether. 
He  occasionally  takes  a  class  in  the  Sunday  school, 
but  his  attendance  is  so  irregular,  that  he  is  soon  de- 
serted by  it,  or  dismissed  by  the  superintendent.  Now 
it  is  not  surprising  that  he  should  have  doubts  and 
fears.  He  nurses  them  by  his  culpable  neglects.  It 
would  be  strange  if  he  did  possess  the  full  assurance 
of  hope.  It  is  contrary  to  all  the  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity that  the  negligent,  slothful  and  disobedient 
should  enjoy  strong  confidence  and  hope. 

I  cannot  speak  confidently,  but  I  have  a  suspicion 
that  brother  Little-faith'' s  characteristic  infirmity  may 
be  traced  in  some  degree,  to  secret  sins.  The  tempta- 


98  DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS. 

tion  to  secret  is  much  stronger  than  to  open  sins. 
The  public  eye,  even  the  presence  of  a  child,  restrains 
many  persons  from  sins  from  which  the  All-seeing  Eye 
of  the  infinite  Judge  could  not :  A  desire  to  appear 
consistent,  to  secure  the  approbation  of  friends,  and  to 
command  the  respect  even  of  enemies,  is  a  strong  prin- 
ciple of  action,  and  auxiliary  to  other,  and  better  prin- 
ciples, in  preserving  good  men  from  transgression. 
But  this  motive  fails  to  exert  any  influence  in  with- 
holding them  from  secret  sins.  The  promise  of  con- 
cealment is  one  of  the  most  dangerous  motives  by 
which  Satan  seduces  men  into  evil ;  and  good  and 
strong  men  may  fall  under  its  power.  Brother  Lit- 
tle-faith is,  I  trust,  good,  but  he  is  not  strong.  He  is 
not  so  confirmed  in  religious  principles,  nor  so  forti- 
fied by  knowledge,  experience,  and  virtuous  habits,  as 
to  be  above  suspicion.  I  do  not  mean  to  slander  him 
— I  would  not  set  an  example  of  evil  speaking — but  I 
desire  to  be  faithful.  He  has  not  made  me  his  father 
confessor  ;  but  I  would  kindly  inquire,  whether  these 
groans,  and  tears,  and  distressing  doubts,  may  not  have 
their  origin  in  some  secret  but  evil  indulgence  ?  I 
should  not  propound  this  question,  had  not  some  facts, 
which  I  deem  it  not  proper  to  mention,  come  to  my 
knowledge,  and  did  I  not  judge  that  Christians  of  his 
class  may  be  profited  by  the  inquiry.  I  would  have 
him,  and  the  class  which  he  represents,  earnestly  cry 
with  the  Psalmist — "  Search  me,  0  God,  and  know  my 
heart :  try  me,  and  know  my  thoughts  :  and  see  if 
there  be  any  wicked  way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the 


DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS.  99 

way  everlasting,"*  and  "  cleanse  thou  me  from  secret 

faults."! 

The  Effects  of  these  habitual  doubts  on  the  charac- 
ter and  influence  of  brother  Little-faith  are-vobvious 
and  deplorable.  * 

He  has,  I  need  hardly  say,  but  little  religious  en- 
joyment. He  has  occasional  sunshine,  but  clouds 
usually  cover  his  skies.  Moments  of  joy.  and  months 
of  wo  seem  to  be  his  lot  on  earth.  In  seasons  of  re- 
ligious revival,  while  other  Christians  are  refreshed, 
filled  with  joy,  and  actively  laboring  for  Christ,  he, 
poor  soul,  is  most  uncertain  and  anxious  about  his 
spiritual  state — instead  of  songs,  he  utters  groans — 
instead  of  laboring  to  win  souls  for  Christ,  lie  is  ab- 
sorbed in  concern  for  his  own  salvation.  On  one  oc- 
casion, I  was  provoked  with  him  outright.  It  was  at 
the  close  of  a  most  glorious  meeting.  Young  con- 
verts, with  .smiling  faces,  and  glad  hearts,  wore  sitting 
in  a  group,  to  receive  a  few  words  of  parting  advice 
from  their  spiritual  fathers;  and  many  anxious, weep- 
ing, broken-hearted  sinners  were  in  attendance  to 
listen  to  appropriate  instruction,  and  to  share  in  the 
intercessions  of  tlje  faithful.  It  was  a  heavenly  time 
— every  heart  was  moved.  What  Christian,  under 
such  circumstances,  could  think  of  himself?  Why, 
brother  Liltlejaith,  who  had  been  many  years  a  pro- 
fessor of  religion,  came  forward  in  the  presence  of  tlie 
assembly,  fell  on  his  knees,  and  with  piteous  cries,  re- 

*  IN.  cxxxix:  24-2-1.  t  !'»•  *'*     *-• 


100  DOUBTING  CHRISTIANS. 

quested  that  special  prayer  should  be  offered  up  for 
him.  The  request  was  sadly  out  of  harmony  with  the 
occasion,  and  seemed  to  strike  uo  responsive  chord  in 
any  bosom ;  but  it  was  in  perfect  unison  with  the 
man's  character.  A  scene  which  filled  other  Chris- 
tians with  joy,  served  only  to  increase  his  doubts  and 
gloom. 

At  another  time,  I  saw  the  poor  man  on  the  very 
verge  of  despair.  There  was  a  lively  state  of  reli- 
gious feeling  in  the  church  of  which  he  was  a  member. 
For  a  considerable  time  he  had  been  in  a  cold,  apa- 
thetic condition.  Now  he  became  pretty  thoroughly 
awakened.  He  remembered  the  past  with  remorse, 
and  anticipated  the  future  with  dread.  He  was  seized 
with  the  conviction  that  he  had  committed  the  unpar- 
donable sin.  No  arguments  could  convince  him  of  his 
mistake — no  promises  afford  him  any  relief — and  no 
sympathy  soothe  his  sorrow.  I  saw  him  in  the  house 
of  God  at  the  close  of  a  searching  and  impressive  ser- 
mon on  the  subject  of  backsliding.  His  countenance 
would  have  moved  a  heart  of  stone.  It  was  almost 
black  with  despair.  He  could  not  weep,  and  did  not 
dare  to  pray.  All  my  efforts  to  instruct,  encourage 
and  comfort  him  were  vain ;  and  I  left  him  seriously 
fearing  that  his  reason  would  be  overthrown.  After 
a  few  days,  however,  he  found  relief  from  his  distress- 
ing fears,  was  filled  with  joy,  thought  that  he  had 
never  before  been  converted,  and  applied  to  be  re-bap- 
tized. It  was  not  long,  however,  before  his  doubts 
were  as  numerous,  and  his  gloom  as  dense  as  ever. 


DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS.  101 

Were  the  renewal  of  his  faith  admitted  as  a  valid  plea 
for  his  re-baptism,  there  is  no  telling  how  often  it 
might  be  necessary  to  repeat  the  rite. 

Brother  Little-faith  is  a  very  inefficient  Christian. 
I  hope  he  will  reach  heaven,  for  although  he  frequently 
turns  aside,  he  seems  to  be  pursuing  the  right  road. 
In  the  judgment  of  charity,  he  has  "  the  root  of  the 
matter"  in  him,  though  it  bears  but  little  fruit,  and 
that  very  defective.  I  fear,  however,  that  he  will 
never  do  much  good  in  this  world.  His  whole  life  is 
tinged,  yea,  dyed,  with  his  constitutional  infirmity. 
His  time  is  wasted  in  needless  delays.  A  disposition 
to  procrastinate  is  an  essential  element  of  his  charac- 
ter. He  must  long  meditate,  inquire,  and  weigh  op- 
posing motives,  before  he  can  decide  the  plainest  ques- 
tion of  duty ;  and  when  he  has  decided  there  is  no 
certainty  that  his  decision  will  not  be  reversed  in  an 
hour.  He  was  five  years  under  painful  conviction  of 
bin,  before  he  found  any  comfort  in  believing;  and 
then  seven  years  elapsed  before  he  could  gain  his  con- 
sent to  be  baptized,  and  unite  with  the  church;  and, 
at  last,  he  went  forward  in  these  duties  with  great  un- 
certainty and  trembling.  This  is  about  his  usual 
speed.  He  is  always  intending,  very  sincerely,  no 
doubt,  to  do  better,  but  the  time  of  action  is  slow  in 
arriving.  And  when  he  does  engage  in  any  religious 
cntcrprize,  he  lacks  the  earnestness  and  vigor  which 
are  requisite  to  ensure  success.  I  once  heard  him 
pray,  when  the  church  was  in  a  most  revived  and  pleas- 
ing state,  and  a  person,  judging  from  his  prayer, 


102  DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS. 

would  Lave  concluded  that  the  last  spark  of  piety  on 
earth  had  been  extinguished,  and  Satan  had  undis- 
puted sway  over  mankind.  It  was  made  up  of  the 
most  piteous  confessions  of  coldness,  stupidity,  and 
barrenness ;  correct  utterances,  no  doubt,  of  his  own 
feelings,  in  which  his  fellow  worshippers  did  not,  at 
the  moment,  sympathize.  He  never  projects  any 
scheme  of  usefulness,  and  when  from  the  demands  of 
conscience,  or  a  regard  to  his  reputation,  he  aids  in 
the  execution  of  those  planned  by  others,  he  never 
fails,  by  his  expressive  gestures,  or  more  expressive 
words,  to  indicate  his  conviction  of  their  worthlessness, 
or  impracticability.  I  must  do  him  the  justice  to  say 
that  he  contributes  of  his  substance,  with  an  average 
liberality,  to  the  support  of  his  church,  and  the  spread 
of  the  Gospel ;  but,  with  this  exception,  he  is  of  little 
service  to  the  cause  of  Christ. 

Brother  Little-faith,  I  must  add,  does,  in  some  re- 
spects, exert  an  injurious  influence  in  the  world. 
His  life  is  a  libel  on  Christianity.  His  countenance, 
conversation  and  groans  seem  to  proclaim  that  Christ 
is  a  hard  master,  his  service  a  cruel  bondage,  and  his 
servants  the  most  oppressed  and  miserable  vassals  on 
earth.  I  know  he  would  not  dare  to  utter,  and  does 
not  believe  such  sentiments — he  believes  the  very  re- 
verse— but  still  his  life  gives  currency  to  them.  Ac- 
tions speak  more  loudly  than  words.  The  world  will 
judge  of  Christians  more  by  what  they  do  than  what 
they  say — more  by  the  spirit  they  manifest,  than  the 
profession  they  make.  This  is  not  to  be  censured  or 


DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS.  103 

lamented.  "  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them." 
The  world,  too,  will  judge  of  Christianity  more  by  what 
they  see  of  it  in  the  deportment  and  spirit  of  its  pro- 
fessors, than  by  its  prineiplcs  and  precepts  recorded  in 
the  Scriptures.  What  then  must  be  the  impression 
of  Christianity  derived  by  the  world  from  the  life  of 
brother  Little-faith  ?  They  must  conclude  that  it  is 
a  compound  of  uncertainty,  gloom  and  distress,  fruit- 
ful only  in  groans,  and  promising  not  much  more  in 
the  life  to  come  than  it  yields  in  this.  Such,  indeed, 
was  precisely  the  impression  that  it  made  on  his  sis- 
ter, a  sprightly  and  interesting  young  'lady.  "  If 
this,"  said  she,  on  witnessing  some  of  his  painful  con- 
flicts, "  is  religion,  I  wish  to  keep  as  far  from  it  as 
possible." 

Little-Jaith  is  the  representative  of  a  pretty  nume- 
rous class  of  Christians.  They  may  be  found  within, 
and  straying  around,  almost  every  church.  Most 
Christiana,  at  one  time  or  another,  belong  to  this  fra- 
ternity. Few  of  them,  throughout  life,  escape  this  in- 
firmity; but  old  Christians  have  le*s  of  it  than  young 
converts,  and  active,  useful  Christians  are  least  likely 
to  be  affected  by  it. 

I  have  a  few  words  of  counsel  to  offer  to  Litflr-faitk 
and  his  brethren,  which,  I  fear,  will  not  prove  accepta- 
ble, and  which,  judging  from  my  past  experience,  an: 
not  likely  to  prove  very  useful. 

1.  Think  more  of  Christ  <nul  A.v.s  of  snf.  V  'U 
constantly  dwell,  in  your  meditations,  on  your  owu 
infirmities  and  short  comings — your  temptations  aud 


104  DOUBTING    CHRISTIANS. 

dangers — your  poverty  and  unworthiness  ;  and  these 
can  yield  you  naught  but  shame, distrust  and  sadness; 
but  think  of  Christ — his  love  to  you — the  efficacy  of 
his  atonement — the  prevalence  of  his  intercession — 
the  faithfulness  of  his  promises — the  pleasantness  of 
his  service — and  the  glory  of  his  kingdom  ;  and  these 
subjects  will  exhilerate  your  spirits,  invigorate  your 
faith,  inflame  your  love,  and  fit  you  for  a  life  of  use- 
fulness. 

2.  Ijdbor  more,  and  groan  less.     Your  infirmity  is  a 
spiritual  dyspepsy;  if  not   induced,  at  least,  greatly 
aggravated,  by  inactivity  ;  and  it  can  be  cured  only 
bjr  an  opposite  regime.      Groaning  is  but  a  symptom 
of  the   malady,  and  can  never  tend  to   mitigate   its 
severity  ;  but  labor — laboring  for  salvation — for  souls 
— for  Christ,  will  tend  to  soothe,  if  it  does  not  cure  it. 
Rise  then,  brethren,  and    enter  on  your   appropriate 
toils.     The  fields  before  you  are  white  to  harvest,  and 
you  are  invited  to  share  in  the  labors  and  rewards  of 
the  reapers. 

3.  Pray  more,  and  complain  less.      You  complain 
of  your  want   of  faith — want  of  love — and   want  of 
joy — of  your  evil  thoughts — your  sore  temptations — 
and  your  disheartening  gloom.     We  are  tired  of  your 
complaints — they  neither  edify  us,  nor  profit  you. 

"  Were  half  the  breath  thus  vainly  spent, 
To  Heaven  in  supplication  sent, 
Your  cheerful  songs,  would  often  be, 
Hear  what  the  Lord  hath  done  for  me." 


DOUBTING  CURISTIANS.  105 

4.  Seek  a  nutritious  spiritual  aliment.  If  a  vicious 
taste  should  cause  you  to  read  novels  ;  or  even  exciting 
religious  books,  in  preference  to  the  Scriptures,  no 
wonder  you  should  be  sickly  and  feeble.  The  un- 
adulterated Word  of  God  is  the  Christian's  proper, 
spiritual  nutriment ;  and  if  he  reads,  studies,  and 
"  inwardly  digests"  its  sacred  truths,  he  will  be  nour- 
ished, refreshed,  and  fitted  for  usefulness.  The  Bible 
Christian  is  not  likely  to  be  a  Doubting  Christian  ; 
but  strong  in  faith,  fervent  in  spirit,  and  ready  to 
every  good  word,  and  every  good  work. 


LECTURE  VI. 

TIMID      CHRISTIANS. 

IN  my  last  Lecture,  I  endeavored  to  portray  the 
character  of  Doubting  Christians.  Closely  allied  to 
this  class  is  another,  which  I  propose  to  describe  this 
evening — Timid  Christians. 

They  arc  legitimate  descendants  of  Doubting  Chris- 
tians. Strong  faith  would  banish  timidity  from  the 
Christian  world.  Why  should  any  Christian  be  in- 
timidated ?  Is  not  God  his  Father  ?  Does  not  his 
Father  love  him  ?  Will  he  not  take  care  of  him  ? 
Has  he  not  promised  to  guide  him,  supply  his  wants, 
protect  him,  and  fit  him  for  heaven?  Why,  then, 
should  he  be  afraid  ?  Simply  because  he  does  not 
firmly  believe,  or  trust  in  God.  Had  he  strong  faith 
he  could,  like  Luther,  in  the  darkest  hour  of  adversity 
and  peril,  derive  comfort,  strength,  and  courage  from 
the  forty-sixth  Psalm — "God  is  our  refuge  and 
strength,  a  very  present  help  in  trouble.  Therefore 
will  not  we  fear,  though  the  earth  be  removed,  and 
though  the  mountains  be  carried  into  the  midst  of  the 
sea." 

Timidity  must  not  be  confounded  with  discretion. 
Discretion  is  much  more  likely  to  be  associated  with 


TIMID    CHRISTIANS.  107 

courage  than  with  timidity.  Discretion  foresees  dan- 
gers— and,  without  a  sacrifice  of  principles,  aims  to 
avoid,  or  prepares  to  meet  them.  Timidity  magnifies 
dangers  in  the  distance,  seeks,  by  pusillanimous  com- 
pliances, to  evade  them,  and  faints  at  their  approach. 
Paul  was  discreet.,  when,  at  Damascus,  to  avoid  the 
rage  of  his  enemies,  he  was  let  down  over  the  wall  in 
a  basket :  Peter  was  timid,  when,  at  the  first  sign  of 
danger,  he  solemnly  denied  his  Master. 

Timidity  is  an  infirmity  by  no  means  new  among 
the  people  of  God.  The  children  of  Israel,  delivered, 
by  a  succession  of  wonders,  from  Egyptian  bondage, 
marched,  after  some  delay,  to  the  border  of  the  prom- 
ised land.  Moses,  by  divine  commandment,  sent 
twelve  men — from  every  tribe  a  man — to  spy  out  the 
land  of  Canaan,  bring  specimens  of  its  fruits,  and  re- 
port its  condition  to  the  congregation.  They  exam- 
ined the  land  and  returned.  They  gave  a  glowing 
account  of  the  country  and  its  productions — "  We 
came  unto  the  hind  whither  thou  scntest  us,  and  sure- 
ly it  flowcth  with  milk  and  honey;  and  this  is  tho 
fruit  of  it."  But  they  were  greatly  discouraged  at  its 
strength.  "  Nevertheless,"  said  they,  "  the  people  bo 
strong  that  dwell  in  the  land,  and  the  cities  are  wall- 
ed, and  very  great ;  and  moreover,  we  saw  the  chil- 
dren of  Anak  there;  we  be  not  able  to  go  up  against 
the  people,  for  they  are  stronger  than  we."  And  the 
congregation,  intimidated  and  discouraged,  wept  and 
murmured  against  Mosos  and  Aaron.  Hut  \vliy  should 
they  have  been  frightened  ?  Had  not  God  promised 


1U8  TIMID     CHRISTIANS. 

to  give  them  the  land  ?  Was  he  not  able  to  fulfill  his 
promise  ?  Ought  not  the  wonders  which  he  wrought 
in  Egypt  to  have  convinced  them  of  his  power  and 
purpose  to  protect  them  ?  Had  the  cities  of  Canaaq 
been  a  thousand  times  more  strongly  fortified,  and 
their  inhabitants  a  thousand  times  more  formidable 
than  they  were  represented  to  be,  the  hosts  of  the 
Lord,  relying  on  his  promised  aid,  should  have  moved 
forward  without  fear  or  hesitancy.  With  such  a 
leader  victory  was  certain.  But  they,  timid  souls, 
were  seized  with  a  panic,  and  rebelling  against  Moses, 
and  against  God,  were  doomed  to  wander  and  perish 
in  the  deserts  of  Arabia.  In  this  case  we  perceive 
that  timidity  vr as  the  fruit  of  doubting. 

Had  the  Israelites  believed  in  God,  as  did  Caleb 
and  Joshua,  they  would  have  gone  up  at  once,  and 
possessed  the  land;  but  "they  could  not  enter  in  be- 
cause of  unbelief."* 

Timidity  is  with  some  Christians  an  occasional, 
not  a  habitual  infirmity.  The  history  of  the  apostle 
Peter  illustrates  this  remark.  It  was  an  act  of 
shameful  cowardice  in  Peter  to  deny  his  Lord  on  a 
mere  suspicion  of  danger.  This  guilty  conduct  was 
contrary  to  the  natural  character  of  the  man,  and 
owing  to  a  sudden  and  overpowering  panic.  The  look 
of  Jesus  brought  him  to  repentance,  and  restored  him 
to  his  wonted  courage.  Afterwards  when  the  apostles 
were  brought  before  the  Jewish  Council,  because  they 

*  HeL.  iii :  10. 


TIMID  CHRISTIANS.  109 

"preached  through  Jesus  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead,''  Peter  nobly  atoned  for  his  momentary  coward- 
ice by  his  indomitable  courage.  "  Whether  it  be 
right,"  he  said  to  his  fierce  and  unrelenting  judges, 
"  in  the  sight  of  God  to  hearken  unto  you,  more  than 
unto  God,  judge  ye."* 

A  Christian  of  this  class,  with  whom  I  am  well 
acquainted,  and  whom  I  sincerely  love,  I  will  intro- 
duce to  the  congregation — brother  Faint-heart.  He 
is  naturally  amiable,  and  grace  has  made  him  pious. 
It  would  be  strange  if  he  had  many  enemies,  for  he  is 
surely  one  of  the  most  inoffensive  of  men.  If  he  sus- 
pected that  he  had  wounded  the  feelings  of  a  brother, 
in  the  most  innocent  manner,  it  would  cost  him  a 
sleepless  night.  So  guarded  is  he  against  inflicting 
pain,  that  he  would  carefully  turn  out  of  his  path  to 
avoid  crushing  a  worm.  Few  men  are  more  esteemed 
and  loved  than  he,  and  less  likely  to  bring  reproach 
on  the  cause  of  Christ. 

Brother  Faint-heart  feels  a  deep  interest  in  the 
prosperity  of  the  church  of  which  he  is  a  member — 
earnestly  prays  for  it — and  sincerely  rejoices  in  all 
the  good  which  others  do ;  but  makes  very  little  ef- 
fort to  be  useful  himself.  The  reason  is  this — he 
sees  insuperable  difficulties  and  appalling  dangers  in 
every  good  enterprise.  He  faith,  with  the  slothful 
man,  "  There  is  a  lion  without ;  I  shall  be  slain  in 
the  streets."  Propose  to  him  any  scheme  for  proino- 

*  Acts  iv  :  !'. 


110  TtMID    CHRISTIANS. 

ting  the  welfare  of  the  church,  extending  the  know- 
ledge of  Christ,  or  mitigating  human  misery,  and  he 
is  almost  sure  to  be  pleased  with  it.  The  object  is 
good — the  plan  to  secure  it  is  good — the  agents  to  be 
employed  are  good  ;  but  the  scheme  he  perceives,  or 
fancies,  is,  from  some  cause,  impracticable.  Its  friends 
will  be  few  and  lukewarm — somebody's  feelings  may 
be  wounded  by  the  enterprize — or,  at  least,  he  is  not 
satisfied  that  every  body  will  approve  it;  and  he 
would,  at  present,  prefer  to  have  nothing  to  do  with 
it.  He  is  slow  to  engage  in  any  good  work — tardy 
in  executing  it — and  quickly  faints  at  discouragement. 
He  is  greatly  wanting  in  the  aggressive  princi  pies  of 
Christianity;  but  should  persecution  overtake  him, 
he  would,  probably,  endure  it  with  exemplary  forti- 
tude. 

Brother  Faint-heart  is  proverbial  for  having  no 
mind  of  his  own.  Not  that  he  is  incapable  of  judging, 
for  he  possesses  an  intellect  of  rather  more  than  ordina- 
ry clearness;  but  he  is  afraid  to  trust  his  own  judg- 
ment. If  he  errs  he  would  greatly  prefer  to  lay  the 
blame  on  the  shoulders  of  another  than  to  bear  it  him- 
self. It  might  be  reasonably  supposed  that  he  would 
look  around  him  for  some  leader,  on  whose  judgment 
he  could  repose  confidence,  and  whose  authority  might 
release  him  from  the  painful  necessity  of  forming 
opinions  for  himself.  Such  a  leader  it  was  not  diffi- 
cult for  him  to  find.  Deacon  Obstinate  is  a  promi- 
nent member  of  the  church  to  which  Faint-heart  be- 
longs. In  character  they  differ  widely.  Obstinate  is 


TIMID    CHRISTIANS.  1  1 1 

self-confident,  bold,  unyielding,  and  overbearitg;  has 
frequently  points  which  he  is  anxious  to  carry  in  the 
church,  and  which  he  would  carry  at  any  sacrifice ; 
and  is  constantly  seeking  to  attach  to  himself  and  his 
plans  such  members  of  the  church  as  he  can  influence. 
Brother  Faint-heart  was  a  suitable  man  for  his  pur- 
pose. He  visited  him,  talked  much  with  him,  and 
soon  enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  numbering  him  among 
his  adherents.  Faint-heart  is  a  man  of  more  dis- 
cernment and  information  than  the  Deacon — but  what 
the  latter  lacks  in  judgment,  he  makes  up  in  strength 
of  will.  In  order  to  know  how  Faint-heart  will  vote 
in  any  case,  it  is  necessary  to  watch  the  movements 
of  Deacon  Obstinate.  However  unreasonable  and 
perverse  the  course  advocated  by  the  Deacon,  he  is 
sure  to  support  it ;  or,  if  his  conscience — he  has  a 
tender  conscience — will  not  allow  him  to  do  so,  he 
frames  some  excuse  for  staying  away  from  the  church 
meeting,  that  he  may  give  no  offence  to  his  friend. 
This  subrferviency  of  the  brother  to  the  views  of  the 
headstrong  Deacon  would  render  him  unpopular,  did 
the  brethren  not  know  his  weakness,  and  did  he  not 
possess  so  many  amiable  and  redeeming  traits  of  char- 
acter. 

I  have  already  intimated  that  brother  Faint-heart 
has  few  enemies.  OH  one  occasion,  however,  his  want 
of  courage  involved  him  in  serious  difficulties.  In 
private  conversation  he  had  been  led  into  some  severe, 
but  just  remarks,  concerning  a  profession  not  very  re- 
putable. A  member  of  the  profession  hearing  of  the 


112  TIMID    CHRISTIANS. 

remarks,  called  on  him,  in  an  angry  tone,  and  with 
menacing  looks,  demanding  to  know  whether  he  had 
uttered  such  remarks.  He  remembered  and  approved 
them,  and  the  public  would  have  sustained  him  in 
proclaiming  them ;  but  the  poor  man  was  frightened 
out  of  his  senses,  equivocated,  and  made  concessions 
derogatory  to  his  character.  This  unmanly  course 
involved  him  in  fresh  difficulties  with  those  who  would 
have  firmly  sustained  him  in  a  frank,  bold,  and  honor- 
able course.  Throughout  his  painful  embarrassments 
it  was  apparent  that  his  difficulties  arose  from  lack  of 
courage  to  speak  and  act  according  to  the  dictates  of 
his  own  conscience. 

Brother  Faint-heart  has,  I  have  no  doubt,  many 
relatives  in  this  church,  who  warmly  sympathize  in 
his  fears.  The  difficulties,  dangers,  and  troubles  of  a 
religious  life  occupy  their  thoughts  to  the  exclusion 
of  the  divine  succors  and  the  certain  and  glorious  tri- 
umphs which  are  promised  to  the  faithful.  They  do 
not,  like  the  ancient  Jewish  rulers,  love  "  the  praise 
of  men  more  than  the  praise  of  God ;"  but  they  are 
more  discouraged  by  the  threats  of  God's  enemies, 
than  inspirited  by  God's  promises.  They  know,  when 
they  consider  the  matter,  that  the  cause  of  truth  and 
righteousness  must  prevail;  but  their  fears  triumph 
over  their  judgments.  Were  a  church  composed 
wholly  of  such  members  it  would  resemble,  not  a  dis- 
ciplined, courageous,  and  conquering  army,  but  a  tim- 
id flock  of  sheep,  fleeing  at  the  approach  of  danger, 
and  easily  destroyed  by  their  enemies.  Had  the 


TIMID  CHRISTIANS.  113 

primitive  Christians  resembled  them  in  spirit,  we 
should  have  no  record  of  their  persecutions,  their 
stripes,  their  imprisonments,  and  their  martyrdoms ; 
nor  would  their  labors  and  triumphs  have  been  the 
wonder  of  the  world.  Christianity  would  have  main- 
tained a  feeble  strife,  would  have  shed  no  blood  to 
ennoble  her  cause,  and  would  have  perished  in  her 
infancy.  Had  Luther  possessed  this  spirit,  as  Me- 
lancthon  did,  he  would  not  have  braved  the  thunders 
of  the  Vatican,  and  freed  half  of  Europe  from  the 
spiritual  domination  of  the  Papacy.  In  short,  had 
this  spirit  universally  prevailed,  the  Inquisition  had 
been  saved  from  its  labors  of  torture  and  death,  and 
"  the  noble  army  of  martyrs"  had  never  been  mar- 
shalled. 

I  would  affectionately  urge  Timid  Christians  to 
obey  the  apostolic  exhortation — "  Watch  ye,  stand 
fast  in  the  faith,  quit  you  like  men,  bo  strong."  You 
profess  to  follow  a  Master,  who,  in  the  maintenance 
of  your  cause,  laid  down  his  life.  Your  brethren,  in 
all  ages,  have  meekly  and  cheerfully  submitted  to  re- 
proach and  sufferings,  when  those  have  beeu  incurred 
in  the  faithful  discharge  of  their  obligations  to  Christ. 
You  are  engaged  in  a  good  cause — the  cause  of  truth, 
holiness,  and  human  salvation ;  nor  arc  you  alone  in 
this  blessed  work  ;  the  holy  angels  are  your  co-la- 
borers, and  (Jod — Father,  Son,  and  Spirit — is  pledged 
for  its  final  triumph.  Can  you  be  discouraged  in 
buch  an  enterprise?  In  this  work  you  will  need 
courage — moral  courage — the  courage  that  promptly 


114  TIMID  CHRISTIANS. 

does  right,  regardless  of  frowns,  ridicule  and  danger 
and  this  courage  is  the  legitimate  offspring  of  faith. 
Seek  to  have  clear  and  comprehensive  views  of  the 
divine  character,  word,  and  purposes;  and  commit  all 
your  interests  and  ways  to  Him  ;  and  then,  with  the 
Psalmist,  you  may  boldly  say — "  In  God  I  have  put 
my  trust ;  I  will  not  fear  what  flesh  can  do  unto  me." 
In  conclusion,  I  would  guard  my  hearers  against 
running  into  the  opposite  extreme — rashness.  Peter, 
a  man  of  extremes,  was  rash,  when,  with  his  sword, 
he  cut  off  the  ear  of  the  high  priest's  servant.  The 
act  could  be  justified  neither  by  religious  nor  civil 
policy,  but  was  the  inconsiderate  impulse  of  an  ar- 
dent, generous  nature,  differing  widely,  as  his  conduct 
soon  showed,  from  true  courage.  Courage  is  cool, 
calculating,  as  ready  to  flee  as  to  fight,  when  fighting 
•would  be  vain,  and  flight  secure  safety:  rashness  is 
hasty,  heedless,  and  more  likely  to  provoke  than  main- 
tain a  conflict.  Timidity  is  the  infirmity  of  a  soft, 
complying,  and  generally  amiable  disposition  :  rash- 
ness is  the  exuberance  of  an  ardent,  restive,  and  ir- 
rascible  temper.  Timidity  degenerates  into  mean- 
ness; rashness  leads  to  violence  and  injustice.  Chris- 
tians are,  perhaps,  more  in  danger  of  rashness  than 
timidity;  and  I  beseech  such  as  arc  of  a  quick  and 
ardent  temper  to  be  on  their  guard,  lest  in  some  mo- 
ment of  excitement  they  should  say  or  do  something 
which  years  of  painful  regret  cannot  atone  for. 


^CTURE  VII. 

INDOLENT     CHRISTIANS. 

MAN  was  formed  for  employment.  He  is  endowt. 
with  powers,  bodily  and  intellectual,  upon  whose  pro- 
per exercise  depend  his  enjoyment,  usefulness  and  dig- 
nity. When  he  came  from  the  Creator's  hand,  pure, 
lovely  and  vigorous,  the  noblest  creature  of  the  earth, 
he  was  placed  "  in  the  garden  of  Eden  to  dress  it,  and 
to  keep  it."  This  occupation,  unattended  with  fatigue 
and  care,  cultivated  his  taste,  expanded  his  powers, 
and  promoted  his  happiness.  When  he  ate  the  for- 
bidden fruit  of  "  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good 
and  evil,"  he  was  expelled  from  Eden,  the  ground  was 
cursed  with  barrenness  for  his  sake,  and  he  was  doomed 
to  eat  bread  in  the  sweat  of  his  face.  The  law  requir- 
ing him  to  take  exercise  was  not  revoked,  but  became  a 
curse.  Refreshing  employment  was  changed  into 
labor,  with  its  inevitable  (-fleets,  fatigue,  care  and  pain. 
Grace,  which  makes  many  and  important  changes  in 
man's  condition,  real  and  relative,  docs  not  free  him 
from  the  law  of  liibor,  but  converts  it  into  a  blessing. 
The  Christian  is  a  laborer.  He  serves  a  Master  whoso 
life  was  one  of  incessant  toil,  anxiety  and  suffering. 
"  I  must,"  said  the  Redeemer.  "  work  the  works  of 


116  INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS. 

him  that  sent  me,  while  it  is  day  :  the  night  cometh, 
when  no  man  can  work."*  Transcendently  important 
is  the  work  to  which  the  believer  is  called.  He  is  a 
laborer  "  together  with  Grod."f  He  toils  to  promote 
the  glorious  plan  for  the  success  of  which  Jesus  died 
on  Calvary,  and  reigns  in  heaven.  He  has  a  great 
work  to  perform  for  himself — a  work  which  neither 
men,  nor  angels,  nor  God  can  perform  for  him.  He 
must  work  out  his  "  own  salvation  with  fear  and 
trembling.''^  And  this  arduous  task  will  demand  iu- 
cessant  watchfulness,  prayer,  self-denial,  obedience, 
and  perseverance  to  the  end  of  life.  He  must  "  strive" 
— agonize — "  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate."^  The  prize 
is  for  him  that  wins — the  crown  for  him  that  over- 
comes* Christ  has  no  idler  in  his  vineyard.  The 
Christian  has  a  most  important  work  to  do  for  others. 
He  is  continued  on  earth  for  the  purpose  of  doing  as 
well  as  getting  good.  He  is  in  a  world  filled  with 
sin,  ignorance  and  misery.  Souls  are  perishing  around 
him  for  lack  of  knowledge.  He  is  divinejy  appointed 
to  hold  "  forth  the  word  of  life;"||  and  it  is  at  his 
peril,  if  he  fails  to  do  it.  Every  Christian  is  required, 
according  to  his  ability,  and  opportunities,  to  teach 
men  the  way  of  life.  After  the  martyrdom  of  the 
evangelist  Stephen,  "  there  was  a  great  persecution 
against  the  church  which  was  at  Jerusalem ;  and  they 
were  all  scattered  abroad  throughout  the  regions  of 

*  John  ix ;  4.  t  1  Cor.  iii :  9.  \  Phil,  ii :  12. 

<j  Luke  xiii :  24.  ||  Phil,  ii :  16. 


INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS.  117 

Judea  and  Samaria,  except  the  apostles. — Therefore 
they  that  were  scattered  abroad  went  every  where 
preaching  the  word."*  The  believing  husband,  or 
wife,  is  bound  to  labor  for  the  conversion  of  the  unbe- 
lieving companion.  <:  For  what  knowest  thou,  0 
wife,  whether  thou  shalt  save  thy  husband  ?  or  how 
knowest  thou,  0  man,  whether  thou  shalt  save  thy 
wife  ?"f  Every  one  who  has  heard  the  gospel  mes- 
sage is  authorized  to  proclaim  it.  "And  let  him  that 
heareth  say,  Come.":}:  The  believer  is  required  not 
merely  to  publish  the  Gospel  with  his  lips,  but  to 
illustrate  and  commend  it  by  his  life,  and  by  all  the 
means  in  his  power  to  promote  its  diffusion  and  suc- 
cess in  the  world.  To  fulfill  his  high  commission,  he 
must  be  a  laborer — must  cultivate  the  Lord's  vine- 
yard— must  fight  the  Lord's  battles.  It  will  be  need- 
ful for  him  to  prepare  for  the  work — enter  upon  it 
with  resolution — prosecute  it  with  fidelity — and  con- 
tinue it  to  the  end.  The  ignorant  must  be  instructed 
— the  perverse  reproved — the  feeble  strengthened — 
the  sorrowful  comforted — the  wavering  established — 
the  wandering  reclaimed — and  the  Gospel  published 
in  all  the  world.  Every  Christian  is  not  called  to  be 
a  pastor — a  missionary — a  translator  of  the  Scriptures 
— or  a  defender  of  the  faith  ;  but  the  feeblest  and  the 
most  obscure  has  his  appropriate  work,  and  perform- 
ing it  faithfully,  he  will  receive  the  crown  of  life.  An 
efficient  church  is  aptly  compared  "  to  a  company  of 

*  Acts  viii :  1,  4.          t  1  Cor.  vii :  16.          t  Rev.  xzii :  17 


118  INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS. 

horses  in  Pharaoh's  chariot"* — all  active,  spirited, 
well  broken,  and  moving  in  harmony. 

I  have  briefly  described  what  all  Christians  should 
be  and  do ;  but,  alas  !  many  are  indolent.  They  are 
not  wholly  inactive ;  for  then  would  they  be  dead — 
unworthy  the  name  of  Christians.  They  are  slug- 
glish,  slothful  and  inefficient  servants.  They  travel 
the  right  road,  but  travel  slowly.  They  labor  in  the 
Lord's  vineyard  ;  but  laboring  without  earnestness 
and  stability  of  purpose,  they  accomplish  but  little. 
They  are  pregnant  with  schemes  of  usefulness,  to 
which  they  never  give  birth.  They  have  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  many  fair  buildings,  which  they  have  lacked 
the  industry  to  finish.  And  most  of  the  good  which 
they  accomplish  loses  much  of  its  value,  by  the  delay 
and  vexation  in  its  production.  In  fine,  they  are 
living,  but  sickly  Christians — reversing  the  prophetic 
description,  they  run  and  are  weary  •  and  they  walk, 
and  are  faint. f 

Elder  Epliraim  Doolittle  is  a  very  respectable  re- 
presentative of  this  class  of  Christians.  Having 
known  him  intimately  from  his  youth,  I  will  make  no 
apology  for  delineating  his  character.  He  professed 
religion  just  as  he  reached  manhood.  Of  his  sincerity 
none  ever  entertained  a  doubt.  His  religious  expe- 
rience was  clear,  pungent  and  Scriptural.  In  uniting 
with  a  church,  he  made  such  sacrifices,  and  submitted 
to  reproach  with  such  meekness,  as  inspired  full  con- 

*  Song  of  Sol.  i :  9.  f  !sa.  xl ;  31. 


INDOLENT     CHRISTIANS.  1 19 

dence  in  his  piety.  His  genius,  education,  zeal,  and 
social  position  gave  promise  of  great  usefulness.  It 
was  not  long  before  he  entered,  at  the  solicitation  of 
his  brethren,  the  Christian  ministry.  A  bright  career 
of  usefulness  seemed  at  once  to  open  before  him.  His 
gifts  were  popular ;  and,  for  a  time,  his  labors  were 
eminently  successful.  A  rich  blessing  every  where 
attended  his  ministrations.  No  preacher  of  his  age 
commanded  larger  congregations,  or  was  held  in  higher 
estimation.  For  a  few  years  his  labors  were  desultory 
and  itinerant.  During  this  period  the  vice,  which  was 
afterwards  so  seriously  to  impair  his  usefulness,  did  not 
strikingly  exhibit  itself.  His  intimate  friends  knew, 
indeed,  that  he  was  fond  of  ease,  self-indulgent,  and 
strongly  inclined  to  indolence;  but  they  hoped  that 
the  responsibilities  of  a  pastorate  would  call  into  ex- 
ercise the  fine  powers  of  his  mind,  and  make  him 
more  diligent  in  his  high  calling. 

A  fact  will  serve  to  show  the  evil  influence  which 
Duoliltlc 's  .sluggish  habits  were  likely  to  exert  among 
a  plain,  industrious  people.  He  had  a  neighbor  named 
Kwift.  I  was  speaking  to  him  of  the  fine  abilities, 
and  extensive  popularity  of  Mr.  Doolittlc.  He. 
said,  thoughtfully,  "  I  have  lost  all  confidence  in  him." 
Surprised  at  such  a  remark,  I  inquired,  "Why?'' 
He  replied,  "  I  went  to  his  house  not  long  since,  after 
I  had  eaten  my  breakfast,  and  found  him  in  bed." 
u  Perhaps,"  said  I,  "  he  was  unwell."  "  Unwell,  in- 
deed!"  answered  Sunft,  "  he  is  A/c//.M  I  do  not  jus- 
tify the  judgment  of  Swift — it  was  unwarrantable  and 


120  liNDOLENT    CHRISTIANS. 

harsh — nor  did  he  mean  all  that  his  language  signi- 
fied ;  but  I  mention  the  fact  to  show  by  what  slight 
considerations  the  influence  of  a  minister  may  be 
diminished. 

The  first  settlement  of  brother  Doolittle  as  a  pas- 
tor was  in  a  pleasant,  prosperous  town.  He  com- 
menced his  labors  with  the  most  encouraging  pros- 
pects of  success.  His  pulpit  services  were  highly  ac- 
ceptable, and  his  easy  manners,  and  sociable  habits 
made  him  a  welcome  visitor  in  every  family.  His 
congregations  were  large,  and  several  valuable  ac- 
cessions were  made  to  the  church.  It  was  not  long, 
however,  before  there  was  an  obvious  decline  in  the 
power  of  his  ministry.  His  sermons  lacked  variety. 
His  favorite  arguments,  anecdotes,  and  figures  of 
speech  were  repeated,  until  they  became  familiar  to 
his  hearers.  Occasionally,  he  would  preach  a  new  ser- 
mon, which  would  evince  his  intellectual  resources,  and 
prop  his  tottering  reputation.  But  this  would  be  fol- 
lowed by  a  succession  of  discourses,  almost  every  topic 
of  which  was  commenced  with  the  ominous  words, 
"  As  you  have  often  heard  me  say  before."  It  was 
clear,  to  the  observant,  that  he  could  not  long  retain 
his  position.  His  habits  were  notoriously  indolent. 
He  was  rarely  dressed  in  time  for  breakfast — read 
novels,  when  he  should  have  studied  his  Bible — 
lounged  at  a  hotel,  when  he  should  have  visited  the 
members  of  his  congregation — spent  the  time  in  idle 
gossip,  which  he  should  have  devoted  to  preparation 
for  the  pulpit — and  showed  more  concern  to  have 


INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS.  121 

good  dinners,  than  to  comfort  the  afflicted.  Matters 
were  drawing  to  a  crisis.  The  influence  of  the  pastor 
was  waning,  and  the  dissatisfaction  in  the  flock  was  in- 
creasing. An  event  soon  occurred  which  resulted  in 
their  separation. 

One  Sabbath  morning,  Elder  Doolittle  preached  a 
sermon  of  unusual  power  and  beauty.  He  outpreached 
himself.  His  congregation  were  taken  by  surprise. 
They  had  scarcely  ever  heard  a  sermon  of  equal  rich- 
ness and  splendor.  It  inspired  hope  that  the  pastor 
might  redeem  his  character,  and  influence.  In  a  few 
days  a  young  preacher,  of  no  reputation,  visited  the 
town,  and  was  invited  by  the  pastor  to  occupy  his 
pulpit.  By  a  singular  coincidence,  the  novice  took 
the  same  text  from  which  the  congregation  had  listen- 
ed to  so  brilliant  a  sermon  on  the  preceding  Lord's  day. 
Their  attention  was  instantly  quickened.  They  were 
curious  to  compare  the  two  discourses,  supposing  that 
the  imperfections  of  the  latter  would  more  strikingly 
display  the  excellencies  of  the  former.  The  first  sen- 
tence uttered  by  the  young  minister  was  precisely  that 
with  which  Doolittle  commenced  his  sermon.  There 
was  now  a  breathless  interest  in  the  assembly.  They 
were  amazed  to  hear  the  same  sermon,  word  for  word, 
which  they  had  listened  to  on  the  previous  Sunday 
with  so  much  pleasure.  Doolittle  sat  in  the  pulpit, 
behind  the  young  plagiarist,  in  full  view  of  the  con- 
gregation. The  discourse  was  as  full  and  sparkling 
as  ever,  but  it  was  enjoyed  neither  by  the  church  nor 
the  pastor.  A  smile  played  upon  the  countenances 


122  INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS. 

of  many  of  the  worldly  as  they  marked  the  changing 
hues  in  the  face  of  Elder  Doolittle.  I  need  not  at- 
tempt to  describe  his  feelings.  They  were  far  from 
being  enviable.  Next  morning,  he  found  on  his  desk 
a  volume  of  Sauriu's  sermons,  opened  at  the  very  dis- 
course which  had  gained  him  so  much  praise,  and  led 
to  such  painful  mortification.  The  poor  man's  repu- 
tation could  not  survive  in  that  place  the  shock  which 
it  received.  It  is  needless  to  note  the  events  that  fol- 
lowed. He  soon  changed  his  residence. 

The  next  settlement  of  Elder  Doolittle  was  with 
the  Sleepy  River  church.  Never  was  a  connection 
more  congenial.  The  church  is  situated  in  a  rural 
district.  Its  members  were  mostly  farmers,  and  per- 
sons belonging  to  their  families,  who  lived  in  retire- 
ment, and,  if  not  rich,  were  desirous  and  struggling  to 
be.  They  had  been  badly  trained.  Their  meetings 
for  religious  worship  were  infrequent,  their  scriptural 
knowledge  was  very  meagre,  and  their  discipline  was 
exceedingly  loose.  They  preferred  exciting  to  instruc- 
tive preaching,  and  had  no  relish  for  practical  dis- 
courses. Their  new  pastor  was  deemed  a  prodigy  in 
talents;  indeed,  he  was  far  superior  to  the  elder  who 
preceded  him,  and  by  whose  exertions  the  church  had 
been  raised  to  its  present  position.  The  commence- 
ment of  Elder  Doolittle's  labors  was  signalized  by  a 
revival  in  the  church,  and  a  considerable  increase  of 
its  membership.  But  soon  the  excitement  passed  away, 
and  both  pastor  and  people  settled  down  into  a  quiet, 
satisfied  state.  He  usually  reached  the  place  of  meet- 


INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS.  123 

ing  late — frequently  an  hour  after  the  appointed  time. 
His  sermons  were  stereotyped.  The  same  texts,  trains 
of  thought,  illustrations,  modes  of  expression,  and  es- 
pecially stories,  were  repeated  until  they  became  famil- 
iar to  all  the  congregation,  except  such  as  had  the  most 
treacherous  memories.  At  long  intervals,  the  monoto- 
ny of  his  ministrations  was  broken  by  an  original  and 
forcible  sermon  on  some  controverted  point,  which 
showed  what  eminence  he  might  have  attained  by  the 
diligent  improvement  of  his  gifts.  After  the  Lord's 
day  services  were  over,  he  usually  went  home  with 
some  member  of  the  church  ;  and,  it  was  observed, 
that  he  always  went  where  he  was  likely  to  fare  best. 
He  refused  to  dine  with  sister  Poor — whose  daughter 
was  sick,  needed  religious  instruction,  and  was  de- 
sirous to  see  him — but  went  farther,  and  over  a  worse 
road,  to  dine  with  sister  Rich,  because  she  kept  a 
sumptuous  table.  The  church  would  have  become 
extinct  under  his  ministry,  but  for  an  occasional  re- 
vival, through  the  labors  of  a  visiting  evangelist,  and 
accessions  from  other  churches  by  certificates  of  dis- 
mission. 

Never  did  a  pastor  more  fully  succeed  in  infusing 
his  own  spirit  into  his  flock  than  did  Doolittle.  Their 
history  furnishes  a  striking  exemplification  of  the 
adage,  "  Like  priest,  like  people."  lie  is  greatly  be- 
loved by  his  church,  for  he  is,  in  truth,  a  lovely  man. 
They  contemplate  him  as  a  model  of  Christian  excel- 
lence. They  do  not  hope  to  equal  him — to  excel  him 
they  think  impossible.  They  conic  to  the  meetings 


124  INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS. 

late,  some  of  them  sleep  soundly  during  the  services, 
all  praise  the  sermons,  and  return  to  their  homes  to 
eat  warm,  rich  dinners,  deeming  themselves  highly  fa- 
vored if  they  can  have  the  company  of  their  pastor. 
They  have  no  Sunday-school,  no  prayer-meeting,  and 
no  week-day  lecture.  Their  house  of  worship,  scarcely 
large  enough  for  their  accommodation,  is  inconvenient, 
unsightly,  and  dilapidated.  They  promise  their  pas- 
tor a  small  salary,  and  never  pay  it.  To  benevolent 
enterprizes  they  contribute  nothing  systematically. 
They  are  constantly  growing  richer,  and  their  contri- 
butions for  religious  objects  are  as  steadily  diminish- 
ing in  an  inverse  ratio.  They  dislike  agencies — pre- 
fer contributing  without  solicitation,  and  in  their  own 
way  ;  but  their  contributions  are  niggardly — unworthy 
of  themselves,  the  gospel  which  they  profess  to  be- 
lieve, the  objects  for  which  they  are  intended,  and  the 
Saviour  whose  name  they  bear.  They  give  copper 
when  they  should  give  silver,  and  silver  when  they 
should  give  gold  ;  and  were  their  offerings  increased 
a  hundred-fold,  their  means  of  enjoyment  would  not 
be  diminished.  A  smile  was  provoked  at  a  session  of 
the  Association  by  an  accidental  omission  of  a  word 
in  their  church  letter.  The  clerk  read  with  great  dis- 
tinctness, "  The  Sleepy  church  sendeth  Christian  sal- 
utation." All  were  amused  at  the  appropriateness 
of  the  title. 

Elder  Doolittle  is  a  good  man.  A  more  amiable, 
inoffensive  man,  I  have  never  known.  Of  a  dishonor- 
able act,  he  has  never  been  charged.  All  his  faults 


INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS.  125 

have  sprung  from  self-indulgence.  He  has  always  felt 
and  lamented  the  evil ;  and  frequently  has  made  ear- 
nest, ineffectual  efforts  to  correct  it.  Ouce  he  seemed 
likely  to  form  the  habit  of  early  rising.  For  several 
months  he  rose  with  the  sun,  and  found  great  refresh- 
ment in  the  morning  breezes ;  but  a  slight  indisposi- 
tion seemed  to  demand  the  indulgence  of  his  old 
habit,  and  the  first  indulgence  extinguished  all  hope  of 
his  reformation.  At  another  time  he  made  a  vigorous 
effort  to  subdue  the  fondness  for  chewing  tobacco.  He 
thought,  for  a  while,  that  he  had  gained  an  easy  triumph. 
But  to  reward  himself  for  his  self-denial,  he  indulged 
occasionally  in  smoking  a  cigar.  This  indulgence  soon 
grew  into  a  habit.  This  habit,  proving  quite  as  ex- 
pensive and  injurious  as  chewing,  was  changed  into  the 
practice  of  snuff  taking.  And  this  again  led  to  chew- 
ing. So  the  reformation,  so  hopefully  begun,  instead 
of  curing  one  evil  habit,  added  two  others  equally  per- 
nicious and  offensive. 

It  is  not  easy  to  decide  in  what  degree  Doolittle 
should  be  pitied  or  blamed  for  his  infirmities.  They 
originate  in  his  temperament.  He  is  of  a  soft,  pliable, 
sluggish  nature.  His  intellect  is  vigorous  when 
aroused,  but  he  is  almost  free  from  ambition.  His 
education,  too,  was  unfavorable  to  the  development  of 
his  powers,  and  the  formation  of  active  habits.  He 
was  indulged  from  his  childhood — slept  when  he  should 
have  studied,  and  played  when  he  should  have  labored. 
His  studies  were  desultory;  and,  consequently,  his 
attainments  were  various  rather  than  profound.  Under 


126  INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS. 

a  different  system  of  discipline,  he  would  have  been 
far  better  fitted  for  the  laborious  duties  of  life.  It 
must  be  admitted,  too,  that  his  peculiarities  have  been 
intensified  by  his  connection  with  the  Sleepy  River 
church.  Had  his  circumstances  impelled  him  to 
study  he  would  have  made  far  greater  progress,  than 
he  has  done,  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  in 
the  power  of  his  ministry.  But  the  church  are  more 
than  satisfied,  they  are  enraptured,  with  his  feeblest 
efforts.  No  repetitions  weary  them.  All  attempts 
to  instruct  them  in  the  higher  branches  of  Christian 
doctrine  would,  with  their  present  tastes  and  habits, 
be  lost  on  them.  They  deem  their  pastor  the  prince 
of  preachers ;  and  he  is  pleased  that  he  occupies  a  po- 
sition, in  which  he  can  sustain  himself  with  credit, 
without  the  unsupportable  fatigue  of  studying,  or 
seriously  interfering  with  the  ease  and  social  pleasure 
which  he  so  much  values. 

Elder  Doolittle  is  now  an  old  man.  He  spends  his 
time  in  eating,  drinking,  smoking,  lounging,  easy  exer- 
cise, social  converse,  day  dreaming,  sleeping,  and  re- 
peating weekly,  to  his  admiring  church,  the  sermons 
which  he  prepared  in  his  youth.  I  am  grieved  when  I 
think  of  him.  He  might  have  been  a  preacher  of  the 
first  class :  he  scarcely  ranks  with  the  third.  Nature 
did  much  for  him — he  has  done  but  little  for  himself. 
He  has  been,  in  some  measure,  useful — he  might  have 
been  eminently  so.  He  occupies  an  obscure  position 
— he  might  have  filled  a  prominent  one.  His  influ- 
ence will  be  almost  limited  to  his  life  time — he  might 


INDOLENT  CHRISTIANS.  127 

have  exerted  a  deepening  and  widening  influence  on 
future  generations.  He  is  much  beloved  in  the  nar- 
row sphere  of  his  labors — he  might  have  been  exten- 
sively admired  and  honored,  as  well  as  loved.  His 
study  furnishes  an  instructive  lesson  for  young  minis- 
ters. There  you  may  see  plans  of  seriuons,  not  filled 
out — treatises  on  important  subjects,  with  a  few  pages 
written,  and  the  rest  in  loose,  and  unintelligible  notes 
— and  schemes  for  usefulness  projected  and  recorded, 
that  have  never  been  executed.  All  these  are  sad 
mementoes  of  his  indolence,  and  instability  of  pur- 
pose. Had  these  sermons,  and  treatises  been  fully  and 
carefully  written  out,  and  these  schemes  of  usefulness 
been  vigorously  and  diligently  prosecuted,  they  would 
be  enduring  monuments  of  his  talents,  and  give  him 
rank  among  the  benefactors  of  the  a^e.  How  differ- 
ent would  his  lifo  have  been  from  what  it  really  is! 

In  conclusion,  I  will  address  three  classes  of  pro- 
fessing Christians — 

1.  77*6-  indolent.  I  will  not,  my  brethren,  affirm 
that  your  salvation  is  impossible.  I  know  that  we 
should  "  labor,  that  whether  present  or  absent,  we  may 
be  accepted  of  God.*  A  living  faith  shows  itself  by 
good  works.  An  idler  can  have  no  part  in  the  king- 
dom of  Christ.  But  you,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  arc  not 
entirely  indolent.  In  what  measure  your  sluggishness 
and  inactivity  may  be  ascribed  to  your  unfortunate 
temperament,  early  training,  and  habits  formed  pre- 

*  2  Cor.  v  :  '.». 


128  INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS. 

viously  to  your  conversion,  only  Grod  knows.  Take 
care  that  the  doom  pronounced  on  the  "  wicked  and 
slothful  servant"  be  not  yours.  "  Cast  ye  the  un- 
profitable servant  into  outer  darkness  :  there  shall  bo 
weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth."*  You  may,  indeed  ! 
be  saved,  but  you  cannot  be  useful.  Success  is  the 
fruit  of  labor.  Idleness  yields  nothing  but  misery 
and  shame.  If  all  Christians  were  like  you,  the  king- 
dom of  God  would  be  overthrown  in  the  earth,  and  all 
efforts  to  arrest  the  progress  of  sin  would  cease.  You 
may  be  saved,  but  you  cannot  be  inspected.  You  may 
be  pitied  for  your  infirmities,  endured  for  your  inof- 
fensiveness,  and  even  loved  for  your  amiableness,  but 
who  can  respect  or  venerate  the  idle  and  worthless  ? 
Arouse,  then,  from  your  lethargy.  Motives  high  as 
heaven,  deep  as  hell,  vast  as  eternity,  press  you  to  en- 
gage in  earnest,  persevering,  heaven-directed  labors. 
"What  you  do,  must  be  done  quickly.  "  Whatsoever 
thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might ;  for 
there  is  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  wis- 
dom in  the  grave,  whither  thou  goest."f 

2.  Tiiose  who  are  diligent  to  little  purpose.  This 
is  a  numerous  class,  abounding  within,  as  well  as 
without,  the  churches.  I  doubt  not  many  of  this  sort 
now  hear  me.  You,  my  dear  friends,  obey  the  divinely 
inspired  caution,  "  Not  slothful  in  business."  What- 
ever promotes  your  health,  comfort,  wealth,  respecta- 
bility and  influence  receives  prompt  attention.  You 

*  Mat.  xxv  ;  26.  f  Eccl.  ix :  10. 


CHRISTIANS.  129 

are  emphatically  men  of  business — thoughtful,  enter- 
prising, industrious,  persevering,  and  economical. 
Every  hour  finds  you  at  your  post.  Every  secular 
interest  is  properly  secured.  Now,  this  is  commenda- 
ble. It  is  not  the  purpose  of  Christianity  to  arrest 
the  needful  occupations  of  life.  It  cannot  be  justly 
charged  with  the  manifold  evils  of  monasticism.  It 
demands  no  seclusion  from  the  world,  and  no  abandon- 
ment of  the  useful  and  ornamental  pursuits  of  life. 
Were  all  its  claims  duly  respected,  there  would  be  no 
injury  but  a  decided  advantage  to  the  industrial  in- 
terests of  the  world.  Agriculture  would  still  reap 
her  harvests,  the  arts  would  flourish,  in  full  vigor,  and 
commerce  would  spread  her  sails,  and  freight  her  trea- 
sures on  every  sea.  But  this,  my  friends,  is  your  con- 
demnation, that  while  every  earthly,  transitory  interest 
receives  prompt  and  earnest  attention,  the  vast  and 
imperishable  interests  of  the  soul  are  wholly  neglected, 
or  command  but  slight  and  momentary  regard.  You 
arc  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things,  but  for- 
get the  "  one  thing  needful."  Your  bodies  are  fed, 
adorned  and  protected — your  families  arc  bountifully 
provided  for — your  houses  are  painted,  insured  and 
guarded — the  beasts  of  your  stalls  have  their  daily 
supplies — but  your  souls,  in  which  are  concentrated 
all  your  real  worth,  and  all  your  hope  for  the  future, 
are  sadly  neglected.  Alas  !  they  are  worse  than  ne- 
glected. They  are  cruelly  murdered.  By  your  sins, 
of  omission  and  commission,  and,  especially,  by  your 
rejection  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  you  are  doing  what 


130  INDOLENT    CHRISTIANS. 

you  can  to  exclude  them  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
and  plunge  them  into  hell.  If  you  were  as  conside- 
rate, diligent  and  zealous  concerning  the  interests  of 
your  souls  as  of  your  bodies — of  eternity  as  of  time 
— you  would  be  shining  Christians,  and  secure  an 
abundant  entrance  into  the  everlasting  kingdom.  I 
expostulate  with  you  in  the  words  of  a  poet : 

"  Why  will  ye  waste  on  trifling  cares 
That  life  which  God's  compassion  spares, 
While,  in  the  various  range  of  thought, 
The  one  thing  needful  is  forgot  ?" 

3.  Those  who  are  diligently  and  usefully  employed. 
You  are  Christ's  laborers.  You  labor  in  his  field, 
under  his  guidance,  and  prompted  by  love  to  him,  and 
the  hope  of  a  reward  from  him.  Your  toils  are  ardu- 
ous, taxing  the  energies  of  your  minds  and  bodies. 
You  are  frequently  discouraged  in  your  efforts  to  do 
good,  by  the  difficulty  of  the  work,  a  sense  of  your 
unfitness  for  it,  providential  hindrances  in  it,  the  per- 
verseness  and  ingratitude  of  those  whose  welfare  you 
would  promote,  the  indifference  of  professing  Chris- 
tians, and  your  want  of  success.  But  be  "not  weary 
in  well  doing;  for  in  due  season"  you  "shall  reap,  if" 
you  "faint  not."*  Your  toil  may  be  severe,  but  it 
will  not  long  continue.  Your  reward  may  be  deferred, 
but  it  is  certain,  and  it  will  be  timely,  great  and  en- 
during. 

*  Gal.  vi :  9. 


LECTURE  VIII. 

INCONSTANT      CHRISTIANS. 

I  SHALL  proceed  at  once  to  portray  Inconstant 
Christians.  The  best  Christians,  in  their  best 
estate,  are,  in  some  degree,  inconstant.  Only  God  is 
immutable.  The  feelings,  plans,  efforts  and  views  of 
the  most  matured  and  established  Christian  are  varia- 
ble. But  by  Inconstant  Christians,  I  mean  those 
who  are  remarkable  for  their  instability — who  are  gov- 
erned by  circumstances,  or  impulse,  rather  than  prin- 
ciple. Other  Christians  change,  of  necessity,  as  their 
knowledge  increases,  as  time  advances,  and  as  their 
interests,  responsibilities  and  circumstances  vary  ;  but 
Inconstant  Christians  are  given  to  change — change 
frequently — change  greatly — change  from  no  conceiv- 
able reason,  but  the  mere  love  of  changing.  The 
Christians  of  the  Galatian  churches  belonged  to  this 
class.  When  Paul  came  among  them,  they  received 
him  as  a  messenger  of  God,  and,  so  fervent  was  their 
love  for  him,  that  had  it  been  possible  they  would 
have  plucked  out  their  own  eyes,  and  have  given  them 
to  him  ;  but  afterwards  they  deemed  him  their  enemy, 
because  he  told  them  the  truth.*  They  received  the 
*0al  iv:  II,  If, 


]  32  INCONSTANT     CHRISTIANS. 

Gospel  from  the  apostle,  but  were  soon  perverted  by 
artful,  Judaizing  teachers.  "  I  marvel,"  said  Paul, 
"  that  ye  are  so  soon  removed  from  him  that  called 
you  into  the  grace  of  Christ,  unto  another  Gospel : 
which  is  not  another ;  but  there  be  some  that  trouble 
you,  and  would  pervert  the  Gospel  of  Christ."*  The 
chain  of  apostolical  succession  has  probably  been 
broken  in  many  links  ;  but  that  there  has  been  a  regu- 
lar and  unbroken  succession  of  Inconstant  Christians 
in  the  churches  of  Christ,  will  scarcely  be  denied. 

I  cannot  better  make  you  acquainted  with  the  de- 
fects of  this  class  of  Christians,  than  by  describing 
the  character  of  a  well  known  member  of  it — brother 
Fickle.  I  was  present  when  he  professed  conversion  ; 
and  his  case  seemed  to  be  a  most  remarkable  instance 
of  the  power  of  divine  grace.  He  had  been  a  bold 
and  reckless  transgressor — his  convictions  were  pun- 
gent, and  his  penitence  was,  apparently,  sincere  and 
deep — and  sudden  as  the  lightning,  hope  and  joy 
flashed  on  his  mind.  He  had  no  doubts,  no  timidity, 
no  apprehensions,  his  countenance  was  bright,  he 
praised  aloud  the  God  of  salvation,  and  exhorted  all 
his  friends  to  seek  mercy.  He  was  promptly  bap- 
tized, and  added  to  the  church.  Great  hope  of  his 
usefulness  was  entertained  by  the  brethren.  Cer- 
tainly, he  promised  well.  He  was  intelligent,  respect- 
able, energetic,  and,  above  all,  eminently  zealous. 

A  sad  declension,  however,   soon  occurred   in  the 

*  Gal.  i :  6-7. 


INCONSTANT     CHRISTIANS.  13c 

church.  Good  men,  and  true,  mourned,  and  prayed, 
and  struggled.  I  shall  never  forget  the  earnestness, 
and  grief,  and  diligence  of  old  brother  Holdfast,  who 
has  since  gone  to  his  reward,  in  this  time  of  darkness 
and  trial.  He  was  a  great  comfort  to  me.  But 
brother  Fickle  imbibed  the  spirit  of  the  world,  entered 
into  absorbing  speculations,  and  violent  political  ex- 
citements, was  rarely  seen  in  the  sanctuary,  never  at 
the  prayer  meeting,  neglected  all  his  religious  duties, 
participated  in  several  disgraceful  affrays,  and  was  on 
the  very  point  of  apostasy  and  ruin.  His  brethren 
talked  witii  him,  warned  him  of  his  danger,  and  sought 
to  reclaim  him  ;  but  their  labor  was  vain.  About 
this  time,  a  delightful  and  spreading  revival  com- 
menced in  the  church.  Soon  brother  Fickle  seemed 
to  be  re-converted.  The  change  in  him  was  not  less 
remarkable  than  it  was  at  first.  He  was  a  new  man — 
his  heart  was  tender — he  confessed  his  sins,  with  great 
apparent  humiliation — he  sang  among  the  loudest  and 
most  devout — he  prayed,  very  acceptably,  in  meetings 
for  social  worship — and  was  ready,  at  all  times,  to 
converse  on  religious  subjects.  He  was  now  fulfilling 
the  expectations  that  were  early  entertained  of  his 
usefulness. 

The  change  in  brother  Fickle  appeared  to  be  so 
thorough,  and  his  deportment  was  really  so  consistent, 
nml  lie  had  so  learned  from  sad  experience,  the  folly 
of  departing  from  Chri.st,  that  w<:  hoped  he  would  not 
agaiu  backslide.  Hut  we  wen1  disappointed.  His 
zeal  declined  witli  the  fervor  of  tin-  revival  To  nil 


134  INCONSTANT    CHRISTIANS. 

the  neglects  and  follies  of  his  former  declension,  it 
was  now  strongly  suspected  that  he  added  the  sin  of 
drunkenness.  The  proof  of  his  guilt  was  not  certain. 
He  was  fond  of  strong  drink — visited  dram-shops 
more  frequently  than  either  inclination  or  business 
would  be  likely  to  lead  a  temperate  man  to  do — and 
the  inflamed  appearance  of  his  face  was  a  sign  against 
him.  Much  to  his  credit,  it  must  be  said,  that  when 
Deacon  Faithful  heard  the  rumor  of  his  drunkenness, 
visited  him,  and  expostulated  with  him  on  the  danger 
of  his  habits,  he  promptly  signed  the  Total  Absti- 
nence pledge ;  and  for  a  time,  at  least,  observed  it 
with  fidelity. 

Brother  Fickle  came  to  me  one  day,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  year,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  saying, 
"  I  have  determined  to  do  better  this  year  than  I  have 
ever  done  before.  I  will  attend  the  meetings  of  the 
church,  and  perform  my  religious  duties,  whatever 
else  I  may  neglect."  I  was  pleased  with  his  sponta- 
neous resolutions,  and  deemed  them  both  timely  and 
important.  For  several  weeks,  I  saw  his  face  at 
every  meeting  ;  then  I  missed  it  occasionally,  and  soon 
altogether,  except  on  extraordinary  occasions.  If  we 
had  a  strange  preacher,  or  a  baptism,  or  any  unusual 
interest  or  excitement  in  the  meetings,  no  member  was 
more  likely  to  be  present  than  he  ;  and  a  visitor  judg- 
ing from  such  occasions,  would  conclude  that  he  was 
the  most  active  and  valuable  member  of  the  church. 

Brother  Fickle  is  never  long  pleased  with  the  same 
preacher.  One  morning  I  chanced  to  meet  him.  He 


INCONSTANT    CHRISTIANS.  135 

was  not  then  a  member  of  our  church ;  and,  I  may 
remark,  in  passing,  that  he  has  several  times,  without 
necessity,  changed  his  church  connection.  A  bright 
smile  was  on  his  countenance  as  he  inquired  of  me — 
"  Have  you  heard  our  new  preacher  ?  He  is  the 
greatest  orator  I  have  ever  heard.  Last  Sunday  night 
his  sermon  was  splendid.  Oh,  how  beautifully  he 
says,  the  rainbow  round  about  the  throne  /"  Not 
long  afterwards  I  learned  that  a  portion  of  the  church 
were  disaffected  with  their  excellent  pastor.  I  was 
not  surprised,  on  inquiry,  to  find  that  brother  Fickle 
and  his  numerous  family,  were  among  the  discontented. 
Fortunately  he  had  not  influence  greatly  to  diminish 
the  pastor's  usefulness.  The  good  man  labored  on 
with  encouraging  success ;  bufc  brother  Ficlde,  unable 
to  enjoy  his  privileges,  was  seen  sometimes  in  one  con- 
gregation and  sometimes  in  another  ;  and  not  uufre- 
quently  found,  or  supposed  he  found,  more  edification 
and  comfort  in  reading  the  Scriptures  at  home,  or 
riding  into  the  country,  to  behold  the  beautiful  works 
of  God,  than  in  attending  on  the  public  ministrations 
of  his  word. 

When  the  impulse  strikes  him,  brother  Fickle  is 
very  liberal.  He  once  gave  fifty  dollars  to  a  Mission 
agent,  for  whose  preaching  he  conceived  a  great  attach- 
ment, and  promised  twenty  dollars  a  year  to  the  same 
object;  but  to  the  regular  church  collections  lie 
generally  declines  to  give  any  thing,  or  gives  very 
sparingly.  I  remember  that  I  once  culled  on  him  to 
contribute  to  an  object  which  strongly  appealed  to 


136  INCONSTANT    CHRISTIANS. 

Christian  liberality,  but  he  excused  himself  cm  the 
ground  of  poverty  :  in  a  few  days  I  learned  that  he 
had  just  paid  a  considerable  sum  for  an  article  of  mere 
curiosity.  It  is  clear  that  he  is  governed  by  no  set- 
tled principle  in  the  use  of  money  ;  for  sometimes  he 
bestows  it  lavishly  on  objects  trivial  in  themselves, 
and  having  no  claims  to  his  aid,  and,  at  other  times, 
he  withholds,  even  a  pittance,  from  objects  intrinsi- 
cally important,  and  making  strong  appeals  to  his 
benevolence.  Nay,  a  cause  which  at  one  time  he 
cherishes  and  patronizes,  at  another  time,  without  any 
reason,  he  not  only  repudiates,  but  opposes. 

Brother  Pickle's  doctrinal  views  have  been  as  va- 
riable as  his  religious  feelings.  He  has  bee\i  a  Cal- 
vinist,  so  uncompromising  in  his  opinions,  that  he 
could  not  hear  a  preacher,  with  any  patience,  who  did 
not  in  every  sermon  furnish  evidence  of  his  orthodoxy 
on  the  Five  Points.  He  has  been  an  Arminian  of  the 
lowest  grade,  differing  but  little  in  his  sentiments  from 
a  self-righteous  formalist.  His  mind  was  once  unset- 
tled on  the  subject  of  communion.  At  that  time  it 
ran  wholly  on  the  evils  of  bigotry;  and  so  deeply  was 
it  impressed  with  those  evils,  that  I  heard  him  say, 
that  he  could  not  fellowship  any  man  who  did  not 
agree  with  him  on  this  subject.  Now,  however,  his 
mind  is  so  occupied  with  the  sublimest  of  all  enter- 
prises, as  he  deems  it,  the  emendation  of  the  common 
version  of  the  Scriptures  in  the  English  language, 
that  he  has  quite  forgotten  his  scruples  about  close 
communion.  He  has  been  on  the  verge  of  becoming 


INCONSTANT    CHRISTfANS.  137 

a  Reformer,  or  more  intelligibly  a  Carnphellite  ;  and 
nothing  preserved  him  from  the  change  but  hearing 
from  some  of  them  remarks  in  derogation  of  Christian 
experience.  I  should,  in  truth,  not  be  greatly  sur- 
prised, if  he  were  to  turn  a  Mormon.  His  tempera- 
merit  would  make  him,  for  a  season  at  least,  a  most 
impetuous  and  fiery  member  of  that  singular  sect. 
The  character  of  brother  Fickle,  however  singular  and 
censurable,  can  offer  no  claim  to  originality.  It  was 
vividly  drawn  by  an  inspired  limner  nearly  eighteen 
centuries  ago — "  Tossed  to  and  fro,  and  carried  about 
with  every  wind  of  doctrine,  by  the  sleight  of  men, 
and  cunning  craftiness,  whereby  they  lie  in  wait  to  de- 
ceive."* 

The  piety  of  this  Inconstant  Christian  resembles, 
not  a  living  and  perennial  fountain,  clear  and  refresh- 
ing; but  a  wet  weather  spring,  bold  and  flowing,  but 
muddy  and  uncertain. 

"Do  you  think,"  inquired  an  observant  and  candid 
man  of  the  world,  "  that  Mr.  Fickle  is  a  real  Chris- 
tian ?"  I  confess  I  am  incompetent  to  answer  the 
question.  In  my  early  years  I  had  great  confidence 
in  my  ability  to  judge  of  men's  piety  ;  but  I  have 
been  so  frequently  deceived  both  in  my  favorable  and 
unfavorable  opinions  of  men,  that  I  am  now  very  dis- 
trustful of  my  judgment.  I  cannot  diflcern  brother 
Fickle  s  motives — I  know  not  what  degree  of  imper- 
fection is  incompatible  with  sincere  piety — nor  can  I 

*  Epli.  iv:  14. 


138  INCONSTANT    CHRISTIANS. 

judge  of  the  allowance  which  should  be  made  for  his 
impulsive  temperament.  I  must  say,  he  is  now  a 
member  of  our  church — has  been  several  times  under 
discipline,  sometimes  for  neglects  and  sometimes  for 
positive  offences  ;  but  he  has  always  been  acquitted  in 
consequence  of  his  plausible  explanations,  or  excused 
on  the  ground  of  his  confessions,  and  promised  amend- 
ments. He  has  been  of  some  advantage,  and  of  se- 
rious disadvantage,  to  the  church.  A  church  com- 
posed wholly  of  such  members  would  be  a  religions 
phenomenon,  and  their  history  would  be  more  inter- 
esting than  any  work  of  fiction.  I  have,  at  present, 
no  hope  that  Ficlde  will  soon  be  expelled  from  the 
church.  His  relatives  and  friends  have  a  decided  pre- 
ponderance in  the  management  of  its  affairs  ;  and  it  is 
supposed,  though  I  have  not  myself  made  the  estimate, 
that  four-fifths  of  the  church  are  related,  or  friendly 
to  him.  It  should  be  to  us,  my  brethren,  a  great  com- 
fort that  God  is  judge.  He  knows  what  is  in  men,  and 
will  reward  them  according  to  their  deeds. 

Inconstant  Christians  I  would  exhort,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  apostle — "  Therefore,  my  beloved  breth- 
ren, be  ye  steadfast,  and  umnovable,  always  abound- 
ing in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  for  as  much  as  ye  know 
that  your  labor  is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord."*  Paul 
not  only  gave  the  precept,  but  furnished  in  his  life  an 
admirable  instance  of  Christian  firmness.  Address- 
ing the  Ephesian  elders  at  Miletus,  he  said — "And 

*  1  Cor.  xv :  5-8. 


INCONSTANT    CHRISTIANS.  139 

no\r,  behold,  1  go  bound  in  the  spirit  unto  Jerusalem, 
not  knowing  the  things  that  shall  befall  me  there: 
save  that  the  Holy  Ghost  witnesseth  in  •  every  city, 
saying  that  bonds  and  afflictions  abide  me."  Ah,  my 
brethren,  imposing  processions,  magnificent  cathedrals, 
crowded  and  delighted  auditories,  and  costly  donations 
did  not  await  this  devoted  servant  of  Christ,  as  he 
journeyed  from  city  to  city,  in  his  mission  of  love, 
but  "  bonds  and  afflictions" — the  fury  of  mobs,  cruel 
scourgings,  imprisonments,  the  desertion  of  friends, 
and  a  bloody  martyrdom ;  and  these  evils  were  dis- 
tinctly revealed  to  the  noble  sufferer  by  the  infallible 
Spirit  of  God.  A  mind  less  firm  and  resolute  than 
his  would  have  been  appalled,  discouraged  and  turned 
aside  by  such  terrors;  but  they  served  merely  to 
stimulate  the  zeal,  confirm  the  purpose,  and  ennoble 
the  character  of  this  Christian  hero.  "  But  none  of 
these  things  move  me,"  said  he,  l<  neither  count  I  my 
life  dear  unto  myself,  so  that  I  might  finish  my  course 
with  joy,  and  the  ministry,  which  I  have  received  of 
the  Lord  Jesus,  to  testify  the  Gospel  of  the  grace  of 
God."*  My  brethren,  obey  the  apostolic  exhortation 
— imitate  the  apostolic  example,  if  you  would  be  use- 
ful, respectable,  or  secure  your  own  salvation. 

I  close  with  a  few  remarks  to  my  dear  brethren 
concerning  Inconstant  Christians.  We  have  them 
among  us.  Let  us  guard  against  the  paralyzing  influ- 
ence of  their  example.  Let  us  learn  from  their  inlir- 

*  Arts  xx:  '2-2.  -2\. 


1 40  INCONSTANT     CHRISTIANS. 

mity,  and  the  inconsistencies  into  which  it  hurries  them 
to  prize  more  highly,  and  cultivate  more  assiduous!) 
Christian  firmness,  carefully  guarding  against  the  ex- 
treme to  which  it  tends — obstinacy.  Let  us  watcl 
over  these  imperfect  brethren  more  carefully,  deal  witl 
them  more  faithfully,  pray  for  them  more  fervently, 
and  set  before  them  examples  more  worthy  of  their 
imitation.  "  Now  the  God  of  peace  that  brought 
again  from  the  dead  our  Lord  Jesus,  that  great  shep- 
herd of  the  sheep,  through  the  blood  of  the  everlast- 
ing Covenant,  make  you  perfect  in  every  good  work  to 
do  his  will,  working  in  you  that  which  is  well  pleasing 
in  his  sight,  through  Jesus  Christ :  to  whom  be  glory 
forever  and  ever.  Amen."* 

*  Heb.  xiii :  20-21. 


LECTURE  IX. 

FASHIONABLE     CHRISTIANS. 

FASHION  is  not  in  itself  an  evil.  Every  person  must 
follow  some  fashion  in  dress,  equipage,  and  manners. 
It  may  be  plain  or  gaudly,  cheap  or-jcostly,  chaste  or 
immodest,  in  good  or  bad  taste  ;  but  of  necessity  he 
adopts  some  fashion  or  form.  The  ascetic,  who  bit- 
terly declaims  against  fashion  as  a  crying  evil,  has  a 
fashion  of  his  own,  formed  according  to  his  own  taste 
and  judgment ;  and  to  this  fashion  he  may  cleave  with 
more  unyielding  tenacity  than  does  the  veriest  devo- 
tee to  the  latest  patterns  from  the  emporium  of  taste. 
Fashion  is  a  universal  sovereign  ;  and  all  do  her  more 
or  less  reverence.  I  once  knew  a  Christian  minister 
— a  good  man,  of  narrow  views,  and  of  an  ascetic 
turn  of  miud — the  burden  of  whose  ministry  was  the 
baneful  effects  of  fashion.  He  sternly  resolved  to  free 
himself  from  all  guilt  and  suspicion  of  worshipping 
the  goddess,  in  order  to  enforce  his  declamation  against 
the  deadly  evil.  In  contempt  of  her  authority,  ho 
refused  to  wear  buttons  on  his  coat;  and  yet,  in  sub. 
mission  to  it,  he  wore  a  tail  to  his  coat — an  equally 
useless  appendage.  His  conscience  forbade  his  wear- 
ing a  cravat  in  summer ;  and  yet  he  had  no  scruples 


142  FASHIONABLE  CHRISTIANS. 

about  wearing  a  high-crowned  hat — one  of  the  most 
arbitrary  products  of  taste.  In  short,  warring 
against  Fashion  from  no  well-defined  principle,  he  fell 
into  glaring  inconsistencies,  and  received  or  rejected 
her  mandates  as  caprice  might  dictate.  Let  fashions 
be  modest,  simple,  in  good  taste,  and  in  conformity 
with  our  means  and  station,  and  we  need  not  fear  to 
follow  them.  Some  fashions  are  extravagant,  im- 
modest, or  in  corrupt  taste.  These  Christians  should 
carefully  avoid.  Gaudy,  superfluous,  and  unchaste 
attire  do  not  become  the  followers  of  Christ.  Their 
apparel,  neat,  niodest,  and  seemly,  should  symbolize 
the  meekness  and  quietness  which  dwell  within.  But 
even  good  and  becoming  fashions  may  be  followed 
with  an'  interest  and  devotion  incompatible  with  seri- 
ous and  consistent  piety.  She  that  thinks  more  of 
adorning  the  outward  than  the  inward  nature,  more 
of  dress  than  of  godliness,  more  of  fashion  than  of 
duty,  "  is  dead  while  she  liveth."  To  conform  to  ex- 
isting fashions,  so  far  as  convenience,  respectability, 
and  usefulness  may  demand,  is  the  part  of  wisdom  : 
to  follow  them  at  the  sacrifice  of  health,  interest,  and 
duty,  is  the  part  of  folly.  Some  professing  Christians 
— I  will  not  say  many,  though  I  probably  might, 
without  indulging  a  censorious  spirit — are  devotees 
of  Fashion.  Their  dress,  furniture,  equipage,  enter- 
tainments, and  such  things,  engross  their  affections, 
thoughts,  and  conversation,  and  exhaust  their  pecu- 
niary resources.  They  are  far  more  concerned,  judg- 
ing from  their  spirit  and  conduct,  that  their  garments 


FASHIONABLE  CHRISTIANS.  143 

should  be  of  the  most  approved  fashion,  and  that  their 
pleasure  parties  should  be  conducted  according  to  the 
most  refined  etiquette,  than  that  their  children  should 
be  converted  to  Christ,  or  their  own  souls  should 
grow  in  grace.  The  memoir  of  Sister  Worldly,  which 
I  now  propose  to  sketch,  may  stand,  with  some  addi- 
tions and  subtractions,  as  a  truthful  picture  of  every 
individual  in  this  category. 

Sister  Worldly  was  born  in  affluence,  and  brought 
up  in  ease  and  indulgence.  Her  mother,  Mrs.  Gay, 
was  a  church  member  of  very  volatile  spirit,  seeming- 
ly of  sincere  piety,  but  greatly  wanting  in  Scriptural 
knowledge,  and  a  sound  judgment.  Her  only  daugh- 
ter was  idolized  and  petted;  and  great  pains  were 
taken  to  instruct  her  in  the  ornamental,  and  very  little 
in  the  solid  branches  of  education  ;  and  her  moral 
training  was  almost  entirely  neglected.  Soon  after 
Mi.ss  Guy  quitted  the  Seminary,  a  very  extensive 
and  powerful  revival  occurred  in  her  father's  neighbor- 
hood. Most  of  her  young  companions  were  convert- 
ed, and  became  joyful  members  of  the  church.  Miss 
Guy,  after  a  severe  and  protracted  conflict,  professed, 
among  the  last  fruits  of  the  revival,  to  find  peace  in 
believing.  It  was  a  long  while  before  she  could  gain 
her  consent  to  be  baptized.  She  had  been  brought 
up  among  Baptists,  was  convinced  of  the  truth  of  their 
peculiar  riews,  and  frankly  admitted  her  obligation 
to  unite  with  the  church  ;  but  this  denomination  in 
the  place  where  she  dwelt  was  ino.^tly  composed  of  the 
poor  and  unrefined,  and  her  associates,  owing  to  her 


144  FASHIONABLE  CHRISTIANS. 

wealth  and  accomplishments,  were  in  another  circle. 
Long  she  hesitated  between  following  her  convictions 
into  the  Baptist,  church,  or  her  inclination  into  a 
church  of  another  denomination,  where  she  found 
more  taste,  fashion,  and  display.  Through  the  influence 
of  the  faithful  pastor  of  the  Baptist  church,  the  strug- 
gle was  finally  closed  by  her  public  baptism,  and  ad- 
mission into  church  fellowship.  Miss  Gay  might 
have  been  eminently  useful.  Her  wealth,  sprightli- 
ness,  and  personal  charms  made  her  the  attractive  cen- 
tre of  a  wide  circle ;  and  had  she  only  been  imbued 
with  a  becoming  zeal  for  truth  and  holiness,  many 
might  have  been  blessed  by  her  influence ;  but  she 
did  not  promise  much  usefulness.  She  took  no  part 
in  Sunday-school  instruction  —  rarely  attended  the 
prayer  meetings — and  was  frequently  absent  from  the 
Lord's-day  worship. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mr.  Worldly  became  a  suit- 
or for  the  hand  and  heart  of  Miss  Gay.  He  was 
wealthy,  respectable,  and  genteel,  but  irreligious,  fond 
of  pleasure,  and  rather  inclined  to  dissipation.  Miss 
Gay's  pious  and  judicious  friends  earnestly  dissuaded 
her  from  encouraging  his  attentions :  but  Mrs.  Gay 
approved  the  match,  and  the  daughter  followed,  on 
this  occasion,  her  mother's  advice.  The  effects  of  this 
unwise  union  soon  began  to  appear.  Mrs.  Worldly 
was  rarely  seen  at  church — when  there,  she  invariably 
arrived  late — and  evidently  felt  very  little  interest  in 
the  services.  She  paid  the  closest  and  most  constant 
attention  to  her  style  of  living.  Her  raiment  was  of 


FASHIONABLE  CHRISTIANS.  145 

the  most  costly  material,  the  most  tasteful  patterns, 
and  made  according  to  the  newest  and  most  approved 
fashions.  Her  spacious  house  was  filled  with  furniture 
of  the  latest  and  most  expensive  style.  On  her  cen- 
tre table  were  the  last  novel,  the  splendidly  embellish- 
ed monthly,  and  quite  a  load  of  annuals,  and  works 
of  light  literature  ;  but  there  were  lacking  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  the  Call  to  the  Unconverted,  and  the  Family 
Bible.  Soon  Sister  Worldly  began  to  attend  parties, 
balls,  theatrical  exhibitions,  and  such  amusements ; 
not  that  she  took  delight  in  these  things,  as  she 
stated  to  her  pastor,  but  merely  to  please  her  hus- 
band— though  rumor  whispered  that  in  other  things 
she  was  not  remarkable  for  submission  to  his  will. 

She  aspired  to  be  the  most  fashionable  lady  in  her 
neighborhood,  and  the  pre-eminence  was  generally  ac- 
corded to  her. 

Sometimes  Sister  Worldly  experienced  quite  an  im- 
pulse of  religious  zeal.  Ordinarily  when  Associations 
or  Conventions  were  held  in  the  place  where  she 
lived,  she  could  furnish  no  accommodation  for  Christ's 
ministers — her  house  was  filled  with  particular  friends, 
or  she  was  short  of  servants,  or  Mr.  Worldly  did  not 
like  to  entertain  company ;  but  when  Dr.  Noble  vis- 
ited the  place,  and  many  were  prepared  to  accommo- 
date him,  she  insisted  on  taking  him  to  her  house,  en- 
tertained him  with  queenly  hospitality,  carried  him  to 
church  in  her  carriage,  and  almost  engrossed  his  so- 
ciety. The  Doctor  left  her  house  with  the  impresaiou 
that  she  was  a  Christian  of  rare  zeal  and  efficiency. 


146  FASHIONABLE    CHRISTIANS. 

We  are  naturally  led  to  inquire  after  the  religious 
influence  of  Sister  Worldly  in  her  family.  Her  hus- 
band became  an  infidel  and  inebriate,  and  a  shame 
and  grief  to  his  family.  Her  sons,  noble-looking  men, 
imbibed  their  father's  principles,  followed  his  example, 
and  were  never  seen  in  the  house  of  God.  Her  daugh- 
ters sometimes  attended  church ;  but  they  were  the 
most  frivolous,  disorderly,  and  hardened  of  all  the 
young  persons  in  the  congregation ;  and  their  pastor 
despaired  of  their  conversion  to  Christ.  On  one  oc- 
casion Sister  Worldly  designed  giving  a  very  large 
party.  There  was  a  serious  difficulty  in  her  way — 
her  oldest  son,  fast  becoming  a  sot,  she  knew  would 
get  intoxicated,  and  probably  disgrace  himself  and  the 
family  at  the  entertainment.  A  discreet  friend  of 
her's  suggested  the  propriety  of  her  having  a  strictly 
temperance  party — a  measure  to  which  her  husband, 
recently  alarmed  by  symptoms  of  apoplexy,  would 
readily  have  consented.  But  said  Sister  Worldly — 
"  What  would  people  think  of  me  if  I  should  have  a 
party  without  wine  ?  They  would  say,  I  am  covetous 
and  mean.  No,  no  !  I  can't  consent  to  have  my  fam- 
ily disgraced  by  a  party  without  wines — the  very  best 
that  can  be  procured."  The  party  was  given — the 
spacious  mansion  of  the  Worldly  family  was  crowded 
with  merry  guests — the  tables  groaned  with  every 
luxury,  and  the  most  tempting  wines — the  festivity 
was  rapturous  and  long  continued ;  but  young  World- 
ly was  soon  inebriated,  made  himself  ridiculous, 
marred  the  pleasures  of  the  entertainment,  was  re- 


FASHIONABLE  CHRISTIANS.  147 

moved  by  force  from  the  company,  seized  with  deli- 
rium tremens,  and  for  several  days  his  life  was  in 
great  danger. 

Many  envied  Mrs.  Worldly,  thinking  that  amid  so 
much  wealth  and  splendor,  and  in  such  an  incessant 
round  of  visitings,  parties,  and  amusements,  she  must 
be  happy.  Had  they  known,  as  I  knew,  how  little 
respect  she  commanded  iu  her  family,  how  she  was 
grieved  and  mortified  by  the  dissipations  of  her  hus- 
band and  sons,  how  she  was  tried  by  the  waywardness 
of  her  daughters,  and  how  heartless  and  insipid  were 
all  her  fashionable  amusements,  they  would  have 
pitied  her  heartily.  She  was  an  unhappy  woman. 
She  had  not  piety  enough  to  sustain  and  comfort  her; 
and  she  knew  from  experience  that  a  fashionable  life 
was  one  of  "  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit." 

There  were  some  redeeming  traits  in  the  character 
of  Sister  Worldly.  She  was  kind  to  the  poor,  had  a 
sympathizing  heart,  and  to  her  friends  she  was  ex- 
tremely generous.  At  times  she  felt  and  deplored 
her  lack  of  piety,  resolved  to  reform  her  life,  and 
made  ineffectual  efforts  to  change  its  current.  Her 
contributions  to  the  cause  of  piety  were  uniformly 
meagre  and  grudgingly  made ;  but  for  other  objects 
she  could  sometimes  give  with  surprising  liberality. 
When  the  church  ventured  on  the  questionable  method 
of  obtaining  money  by  a  fair,  she  exerted  herself  to 
forward  the  scheme,  excelling  all  the  sisters  in  the 
costliness  and  beauty  of  the  articles  which  she  offered 
for  sale,  and  the  amount  received  at  her  counter. 


148  FASHIONABLE  CHRISTIANS. 

Several  years  have  passed  since  Sister  Worldly 
closed  her  career  of  fashion  and  pleasure  in  the  grave. 
The  circumstances  of  her  departure  were  melancholy, 
but  I  must  not  omit  them.  Mr.  Worldly  had  just 
completed  a  large,  beautiful,  and  most  convenient 
residence.  No  expense  was  spared  to  make  it  the 
first  building  in  the  city.  It  was  almost  a  terrestrial 
paradise.  The  garden  was  extensive,  tastefully  laid 
out,  and  supplied,  at  great  cost,  with  rare  shrubbery 
and  delicious  fruits.  The  rooms  of  the  noble  mansion 
were  adorned  with  a  profusion  of  furniture,  of  the 
newest  style,  and  most  expensive  quality.  Sister 
Worldly*  s  heart  was  much  set  on  her  new  home.  She 
looked  forward  to  her  entrance  into  it  as  the  com- 
mencement of  a  new  life.  But,  alas  !  how  sadly  are 
human  hopes  sometimes  blighted.  Her  health  was 
delicate  and  declining  when  she  entered  her  loved 
palace.  The  disease  under  which  she  labored  was  in- 
sidious in  its  nature  and  slow  in  its  progress.  Her 
physician,  in  whose  judgment  she  placed  great  reli- 
ance, flattered  her  with  the  hope  of  her  speedy  resto- 
ration to  health  ;  and  she  excluded  from  her  sick  room 
the  few  faithful  friends  who  would  have  disclosed  to 
her  the  peril  of  her  situation.  Her  family  were  hardly 
aware  of  her  real  condition,  and  unwilling  to  disclose  to 
her  their  fears.  The  neighbors  all  knew  that  Mrs. 
Worldly  must  soon  die,  while  as  yet  the  family  had  little 
alarm,  and  she  was  cheerful,  and  fondly  talking  of  health, 
parties,  and  visitings.  The  disease,  meanwhile,  was  ma- 
king steady  and  fatal  progress.  Two  or  three  days  before 


FASHIONABLE    CHRISTIANS.  149 

her  death,  the  conviction  that  her  end  was  nigh  flash- 
ed on  her  mind.  Neither  the  flatteries  of  her  physi- 
cian, nor  her  own  vain  hopes,  could  longer  deceive 
her.  She  was  perfectly  overwhelmed  at  an  event 
which  she  so  little  expected,  aud  for  which  she  was 
so  little  prepared.  To  give  up  her  new  house  and  its 
furniture,  and  to  take  up  her  dwelling  in  the  dark  and 
solitary  grave,  was  to  her  a  dreary  and  appalling  pros- 
pect. She  could  not  live,  nor  could  she  consent  to 
die.  She  was  not  without  hope  for  the  future,  hut 
consternation,  and  not  hope,  was  the  prevailing  feel- 
ing of  her  mind.  She  died  without  light,  without 
peace,  with  feeble  hope,  and  was  carried  forth  from 
her  splendid  mansion  to  the  narrow  and  cheerless 
house  appointed  for  all  the  living :  and  her  end  fur- 
nishes an  impressive  commentary  on  the  vanity,  folly, 
and  wretchedness  of  a  fashionable  life.  I  dare  not 
say  that  her  soul  was  lost — I  would  trust  that,  through 
infinite  riches  of  grace,  it  was  saved  :  but  who  would 
willingly  die  such  a  death  ?  and  how  many  fashionable 
Christians  are  preparing  themselves  for  just  such  au 
eud? 

We  close,  iny  hearers,  with  a  few  practical  remarks 
on  this  subject. 

1.  Let  us  adopt  Scriptural  views  on  the  theme 
under  consideration.  On  this,  as  on  other  subjects, 
men  are  prone  to  extremes — some  to  the  ascetic,  and 
some  to  the  licentious  extreme.  I  have  already  inti- 
mated that  the  evil  lies,  not  in  conforming  to  existing 
fashions  as  such  ;  but  in  following  immodest  or  ex- 


150  FASHIONABLE    CHRISTIANS 

travagant  fashions,  or  becoming  fashions  with  an  un- 
due devotion.  The  apostle  enjoins  on  Christ's  disci- 
ples non-conformity  to  this  world  :  but  the  prohibition 
must  be  understood  with  proper  limitation.  The 
apostle  did  not  design  to  teach  that  if  the  world  wear 
raiment  of  a  certain  texture,  color,  and  pattern,  that 
Christians  for  that  reason  should  avoid  its  use ;  but 
merely  that  they  should  abstain  from  concord  with 
the  world  in  whatever  is  sinful.  The  passage  itself 
does  not  define  the  line  of  separation  between  the 
church  and  the  world,  but  leaves  the  disciples  to  dis- 
cover that  line  in  the  light  of  other  portions  of  the 
Scriptures.  Another  apostle  enjoins  on  wives  that 

their  adorning  should  not  be  outward, plaiting  the 

hair,  and  of  wearing  of  gold,  or  of  putting  on  of  ap- 
parel, but  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit. 
But  Peter  did  not  inhibit  all  attention  to  personal 
neatness  and  ornament — all  use  of  gold  and  apparel 
in  adorning  the  body — but  required  that  the  chief  at- 
tention should  be  bestowed  on  the  adornment  of  the 
heart.  The  outward  man  may  be  adorned  with  neatness, 
good  taste,  and  elegance ;  but  the  cultivation  and  im- 
provement of  the  heart  is  the  chief  business  of  life. 
The  devotee  of  fashion  neglects  the  adornment  of  the 
heart ;  and  the  ascetic  declaimer  against  fashion 
attaches,  as  do  the  objects  of  his  censure,  an  un- 
due importance  to  the  vestments  of  the  outward 
man. 

2.  We  should  consider  how  little  is  to  be  gained  by 
devotion  to  Fashion.     She  is  as  very  a  despot  as  ever 


FASniONAULE    CHRISTIANS.  151 

occupied  a  Turkish  throne.  Her  mandates  are  fre- 
quently capricious,  senseless,  iu  violation  of  good 
taste,  extravagant,  burdensome,  cruel,  and  even  mur- 
derous. Her  slaves  are  not  unfrcqueutly  severely 
taxed,  exhausted  by  fatigue,  exposed  to  heat  and  cold, 
and  subjected  to  the  most  heartless  drudgery.  And 
what,  permit  me  to  inquire,  is  gained  by  this  painful 
vassalage  ?  Respectability  is  the  phantom  sought  by 
these  voluntary  .slaves.  *  They  hope,  by  attention  to 
fashion,  to  be  admired  for  their  taste,  praised  for 
their  accomplishments,  and  elevated  to  the  highest 
circle  of  society.  But  I  put  it  to  the  candid  judg- 
ment of  my  hearers,  whether  a  lady  is  exalted  one- 
inch  in  the  estimation  of  the  discerning  and  the  virtu- 
ous, because  she  is  fashionable  ?  Nay,  does  not  the 
unsophisticated  heart  instinctively  recoil  from  render- 
ing homage  to  the  woman  of  gaiety,  fashion,  and  plea- 
sure ?  Does  not  the  woman  concerned  mainly  for  the 
cultivation  of  the  intellect  and  heart,  of  neat  and  plain 
attire,  and  of  unaffected  and  dignified  manners,  carry 
away  the  palm  from  her,  even  iu  the  estimation  of 
those  whose  smile  she  courts?  A. fas/iionfUde  ClirtK- 
fiftnf  What  pastor  desires  to  have  such  a  member 
in  his  church  ?  Who  would  seek  her  prayers  in  a 
time  of  distress?  Who  would  be  willing  to  occupy 
her  place  in  a  dying  hour  ?  "  She  that  livcth  in  ple:i- 
sure  is  dead  while  she  liveth." 

My  dear  friends,  let  us  resolve  that  we  will  more 
diligently  follow  the  fashions  set  for  us  by  our  divine 
Master.  He  has  giveu  us  no  pattern  for  the  form  of 


152  FASHIONABLE  CHRISTIANS. 

our  garments,  but  a  most  beautiful  pattern  for  the 
guidance  of  our  lives — a  pattern  in  which  all  the  ami- 
able and  lovely  are  blended  with  all  the  noble  and 
commanding  traits  of  human  character ;  and  has, 
with  the  kindness  of  a  father,  and  the  authority  of  a 
sovereign,  said  to  us — "  Follow  me." 


LECTURE  X. 

FRIVOLOUS      CHRISTIANS. 

FRIVOLITY  is  opposed  to  gravity — sobriety.  Chris- 
tians should  be  grave.  It  is  according  to  "  sound 
doctrine  that  the  aged  men  be  sober,"  and  "grave," 
as  well  as  "  temperate,  sound  in  faith,  in  charity,  in 
patience."*  But  the  obligation  to  be  grave  and  sober 
is  not  peculiar  to  old  men.  "  Young  men,"  writes 
Paul  to  Titus,  "  likewise,  exhort  to  be  sober-minded." 
This  evangelist  was  enjoined,  not  merely  to  exhort 
young  men  to  sober-mindedness,  but  to  exemplify  in 
his  own  conduct  the  excellence  of  the  precept.  "  In 
all  things,"  continued  the  apostle,  "  showing  thyself 
a  pattern  of  good  works  :  in  doctrine  showing,"  among 
other  important  qualities,  "  gravity.''!  No  disposi- 
tion, certainly,  can  be  more  becoming  men  redeemed 
from  sin  and  death  than  gravity.  When  they  con- 
sider from  what  guilt  and  danger  they  have  been  res- 
cued— by  how  great  a  sacrifice  their  deliverance  was 
effected — how  weighty  and  solemn  arc  their  responsi- 
bilities to  Christ — how  numerous,  artful  and  malig- 
nant are  their  enemies — how  sin  aud  misery  overspread 

*  Tit.  ii :  '.',.  t  Tit    ii :  <V-7 


154  FRIVOLOUS    CHRISTIANS. 

the  world — and  how  brief  and  uncertain  is  the  period 
of  their  earthly  sojourn — can  they  be  otherwise  than 
grave  ? 

But  Christians  are  required  to  be  grave,  not  morose. 
Moroseness  is  selfish,  bitter,  sullen,  implacable — gra- 
vity is  considerate,  gentle,  kind,  heavenly.  Jesus  was 
grave,  not  morose — serious,  not  severe  ;  and  his  dis- 
ciples are  bound  to  imbibe  his  spirit. 

Christians  should  be  grave,  not  gloomy.  Gravity 
is  compatible  with  cheerfulness,  joy  and  sociability — 
gloominess  unfits  the  mind  alike  for  intercourse  with 
men,  and  with  God — for  the  pleasures  of  society,  and 
the  duties  of  religion.  Jesus  was  grave,  not  gloomy 
— the  warmth  of  his  heart,  the  brightness  of  his  coun- 
tenance, and  the  kindness  of  his  words,  made  him  a 
welcome  guest  in  every  social  circle  where  sin  was  not 
tolerated.  Whether  we  contemplate  him  at  the  mar- 
riage feast  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  in  the  pious  family  of 
Martha  in  Bethany,  or  in  his  frequent  interviews  with 
his  chosen  disciples,  we  cannot  but  be  impressed  with 
the  cheerfulness,  sociality,  and  gentleness  of  his  man- 
ners. He  came  "  eating  and  drinking"  like  other 
men.  He  was  in  the  truest,  noblest  sense,  "  a  friend 
of  publicans  and  sinners."*  And  his  disciples  are 
under  the  strongest  obligation  to  imitate  the  lovely, 
winning  example  of  their  Master. 

Frivolity  makes  a  mind  light,  inconsiderate,  and 
unimpressed  with  divine  things.  It  is  generally,  but 

*  Mat.  xi :  19. 


FRIVOLOUS    CHRISTIANS.  155 

not  exclusively  the  sin  of  youth.  It  is  sometimes, 
though  most  unbecomingly,  associated  with  gray  hairs 
and  infirmities.  What  measure  of  levity  is  compati- 
ble with  sincere  piety,  it  is  difficult  to  say ;  but,  cer- 
tainly, its  habitual,  and  unrestrained  indulgence  is  not. 
Piety  is  a  serious  thing.  It  has  its  hopes,  its  conso- 
lations, and  its  joys  ;  but  it  has  also  its  mortifications, 
its  sorrows,  and  its  conflicts.  Though  not  recorded 
in  so  many  words,  it  is  the  plain  teaching  of  revela- 
tion, that  uo  trifler  shall  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  "  From  the  days  of  John  the  Baptist  until 
now  the  kingdom  of  heaven  suifereth  violence,  and  the 
violent  take  it  by  force."*  It  must  be  taken  by 
storm  ;  or,  to  speak  without  a  figure,  the  blessings  of 
true  religion  are  enjoyed  only  by  those  who  earnestly 
desire,  and  vigorously  seek  them. 

Frivolous  Christians  are,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  a  very 
numerous  class.  Frivolity  is  an  evil  confined  to  no  age, 
nor  sex,  nor  rank.  It  is  found  in  every  Christian  church. 
The  most  considerate  and  dignified  disciples  of  Jesus 
are  liable  to  be  surprised,  or  allured,  into  its  indul- 
gence. It  invades  the  pulpit ;  and  diffuses  thence  a 
most  mischievous  influence. 

I  propose  to  depict  some  of  the  Evils  of  Frivolity 
as  they  are  seen  in  the  life  of  Elder  Lightman. 

He  was  naturally  of  a  warm,  excitable,  and  lively 
temperament.  Ilia  disposition  was  kind  but  volatile. 
If  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak  phrenologically,  his 

*  Mat.  xi  :  1-J 


156  FRIVOLOUS    CHRISTIANS. 

organ  of  self-esteem  was  largely  developed.  Eminently 
social  in  bis  spirit,  he  was  fond  of  conversation,  or 
rather  of  talking,  and  usually  made  himself — his  at- 
tainments, exploits  or  purposes — the  theme  of  his  re- 
marks. He  was  singularly  impulsive,  rarely  taking 
time  to  weigh  his  words,  or  consider  the  consequences 
of  his  acts. 

The  religious  experience  of  Mr.  Lightman  was 
somewhat  remarkable.  His  feelings  were  deep,  but 
variable.  His  tears  were  often  succeeded  by  levity  • 
and  his  levity  as  often  by  tears  still  more  bitter.  One 
fact  in  his  experience  will  best  illustrate  his  character. 
While  he  was  apparently  under  deep  conviction  of  sin, 
he  attended  a  meeting  in  which  there  was  a  solemn  and 
pervasive  religious  influence.  At  this  meeting,  some- 
thing ludicrous,  or  which  appeared  to  him  to  be  so, 
occurred.  Instantly  all  his  serious  thoughts  and  im- 
pressions were  gone,  and  he  was  seized  with  an  un- 
controllable fit  of  laughter.  To  prevent  the  exposure 
of  his  levity  he  withdrew  from  the  congregation,  and 
gave  full  indulgence  to  his  mirth.  Soon,  however,  the 
tide  of  his  feelings  changed.  His  laughter  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  sense  of  guilt,  alarm,  tears,  and  lamenta- 
tions ;  but  in  the  midst  of  these  painful  exercises,  the 
ludicrous  scene  presented  itself  again  vividly  to  his 
mind,  upset  his  gravity,  and  threw  him  into  convulsive 
laughter.  The  poor  man  returned  from  a  religious 
meeting,  which  he  had  attended,  earnestly  desiring  to 
be  benefitted,  with  distressing  fears  that  he  had  com- 
mitted the  unpardonable  sin. 


FRIVOLOUS  CHRISTIANS.  157 

Strong  confidence  in  Christ,  a  bright  hope  of  heav- 
en, and  an  overflowing  joy,  signalized  the  conversion 
of  Lightman.  He  was  promptly  baptized,  and  uni- 
ted with  a  church  of  Christ.  Possessing  a  brilliant 
intellect,  a  good  education,  and  a  ready  and  graceful 
elocution,  he  was  easily  persuaded  to  enter  the  Chris- 
tian ministry.  High  hopes  were  entertained  of  his 
usefulness.  His  manners  were  popular,  his  preaching 
was  attractive,  and  his  zeal  and  energy  were  marked. 
Soon,  however,  his  levity  began  to  exert  a  baleful  in- 
fluence. 

This  infirmity  showed  itself  in  an  excessive  atten- 
tion to  his  personal  appearance.  He  was  handsome, 
vain  of  his  beauty,  and  sought  to  exhibit  it  to  advan- 
tage. A  neat  attire,  suited  to  age  and  position,  be- 
comes a  Christian  minister  ;  but  a  fondness  for  dress 
is  utterly  unworthy  of  him.  The  pulpit  occupied  by 
Elder  Lightman  stood  in  a  position  unfavorable  to 
the  display  of  his  personal  charms.  He  therefore  pro- 
posed and  succeeded  in  effecting  such  changes  in  it, 
the  light  that  shone  on  it,  and  the  drapery  surround- 
ing it,  as  were  best  adapted  to  the  exhibition  of  his 
noble  form,  fair  complexion,  and  tasteful  dress.  There 
stands  the  pulpit,  an  enduring  monument  of  the  pas- 
tor's frivolity  and  self-complacency,  Alas  !  that  a 
minister  of  Christ,  called  to  watch  for  souls  as  one 
that  must  give  account,  should  be  more  concerned  to 
display  his  own  beauty  than  the  glory  of  Christ — should 
convert  the  pulpit,  Heaven's  appointed  means  of  hu- 
man salvation,  into  a  stapo.  on  which  to  exhibit,  with 
scenic  rfVfi-t,  h;>  |,i  r.-Miii;il  charms! 


158  FRIVOLOUS    CHRISTIANS. 

The  conversation  of  Elder  Lightman  was  eminently 
frivolous.  In  every  society,  under  the  most  solemn 
circumstances,  in  week  days  and  on  Lord's  days,  hi3 
levity  was  apparent.  No  opportunity  of  jesting  was 
permitted  to  pass  unused,  and  he  would  sooner  lose  a 
friend  than  spoil  a  pan.  No  subject  was  too  impor- 
tant or  grave  to  be  converted  by  htm  into  a  theme  for 
merriment.  Had  he  been  as  anxious  to  instruct  and 
profit  as  he  was  to  amuse  his  associates,  he  would 
have  been  a  most  valuable  companion.  Those  who 
observed  his  usual  solemnity  and  fervency  in  the  pul- 
pit, and  his  thoughtless  levity  out  of  it,  frequently  re- 
marked of  him — what  has  often  been  remarked  of 
others — "  When  he  is  in  the  pulpit,  he  preaches  so 
well  that  he  should  never  come  out  of  it ;  and  when 
he  is  out  of  it,  his  conversation  is  so  frivolous  that  he 
should  never  go  into  it." 

A  fact  may  best  show  the  evil  influence  of  his  lev- 
ity. He  attended  a  meeting  where  many  ministers, 
from  various  parts  of  the  country,  were  present, 
among  whom  were  some  distinguished  for  their  learn- 
ing, eloquence,  and  piety.  He  was  the  star  of  the 
occasion.  In  the  pulpit,  the  solemnity  of  his  counte- 
nance, the  fervor  of  his  manner,  and  his  graceful  elocu- 
tion, added  to  the  intrinsic  excellence  of  his  discourses, 
made  him  the  centre  of  interest  and  attraction.  The 
venerableness  of  age,  the  sayings  of  wisdom,  and  the 
dawning  of  genius,  were  all  forgotten  in  the  admira- 
tion excited  by  the  glowing  eloquence,  and  impassioned 
appeals  of  Elder  Lightman,  then  in  his  early  prime. 


FRIVOLOUS    CHRISTIANS.  159 

When  the  meeting  closed  his  praises  were  on  almost 
every  lip.  It  happened  that  sister  Grave,  a  lady  em- 
inent for  piety,  discretion,  and  dignity,  sha'red  the 
hospitality  of  the  family  in  which  he  was  quartered. 
I  said  to  her,  after  the  meeting  had  ended,  "How did 
you  like  brother  Lightmari's  preaching  ?"  "  I  wish 
never  to  hear  him  again,"  was  her  prompt  and  pointed 
reply."  "  Why  ?"  I  enquired,  with  surprise.  "  His 
conversation  is  so  light  and  trifling  that  I  can  have 
no  confidence  in  his  piety."  I  was  sorry  to  hear  the 
remark.  The  judgment  of  the  excellent  sister  was  se- 
vere. She  did  not  make  due  allowance  for  the  natu- 
ral temperament  of  the  man,  the  exhilarating  circum- 
stances in  which  he  was  placed,  and  the  strong  temp- 
tations which  he  was  under  to  please  and  amuse,  by 
his  wit  and  vivacity,  those  whom  he  had  astonished 
and  dazzled  by  his  sermons.  But  still,  knowing,  as  I 
did,  the  sound  judgment,  the  high  sense  of  propriety, 
the  unaffected  piety,  and  the  wide  and  deserved  influ- 
ence of  sister  Grave,  I  would  not  have  been  willing 
that  she  should  entertain  such  an  opinion  of  me  for  all 
the  popularity  which  Elder  Lightman  won  from  the 
vast  and  delighted  crowd  on  that  occasion. 

It  would  not  have  been  so  bad  if  his  levity  had  been 
confined  to  his  social  intercourse.  Unfortunately,  the 
frivolity  of  his  temper  and  his  fondness  for  the  ludi- 
crous, sometimes  broke  through  tho  restraints  imposed 
by  the  sacredness  of  the  pulpit.  He  often  sought  to 
gain  a  smile  when  he  should  have  aimed  to  win  a  soul. 
Usually,  indeed,  he  was  solemn,  even  tender  and  pa- 


160  FRIVOLOUS  CHRISTIANS. 

thetic,  in  the  sacred  desk;  but  occasionally  the  caus- 
ticity, oddity,  or  ludicrousness  of  his  remarks  would 
move  his  congregation  to  an  involuntary  smile,  or  ill- 
suppressed  laughter.  On  one  occasion  the  effect  of 
his  untimely  mirth  was  most  painful  and  disrepu- 
table. For  the  elucidation  of  some  point,  he  related 
an  amusing  story.  Its  effect  was  irresistible.  Through' 
out  the  dense  congregation  there  was  a  half-concealed 
titter.  This  pervasive  mirth  re-acted  on  the  preach- 
er, and  he  burst  into  loud  and  unrestrained  laughter. 
The  assembly,  freed  from  all  restraints  by  the  unseem- 
ly example  of  the  preacher,  indulged  in  merriment) 
the  more  hearty  and  vociferous,  from  their  previous 
efforts  to  suppress  it.  After  the  general  outburst  of 
amusement,  order  and  gravity  were  restored.  The 
preacher  apologized  for  his  levity,  resumed  the  thread 
of  his  discourse,  and  was  proceeding  with  his  usual 
pathos,  when  the  unfortunate  story  which  had  caused 
the  diversion  came  again  vividly  into  his  mind.  He 
suddenly  stopped,  struggled  a  moment  with  the  threat- 
ening eruption,  and  broke  forth  again  into  laughter. 
The  congregation,  catching  the  sympathy,  laughed  in 
unison  with  him.  All  attempts  to  re-commence  the 
religious  services  were  vain.  The  feelings  of  the  preach- 
er and  of  the  people  were  utterly  inharmonious  with 
the  place,  the  occasion,  and  the  appropriate  services. 
The'  meeting  closed  in  a  farce.  It  was,  indeed,  in  one, 
but  not  in  every  aspect  a  farce.  It  was  a  melancholy 
scene.  Angels  might  have  wept  over  it.  The  Lord's 
day  was  desecrated,  the  house  of  worship  was  dishon- 


FRIVOLOUS    CHRISTIANS.  .61 

ored,  the  pulpit  was  prostituted,  th'e  people  were 
taught  to  make  a  mock  at  sacred  things,  the  preacher 
of  the  gospel  was  disgraced,  God  was  offended,  and 
infidelity  was  invited  to  sneer  and  triumph.  I  do  not 
envy  Lightman  the  feelings  with  which  he  returned 
to  his  home  to  reflect  on  his  levity,  folly,  and  merited 
reproach.  In  other  places  he  retained  his  reputation 
and  influence ;  hut  he  could  never  again  appear  at  the 
scene  of  his  impious  levity  without  a  feeling  of  shame, 
and  exciting  a  vivid  recollection  of  his  folly. 

I  need  not  farther  pursue  the  life  of  Elder  Light- 
man. He  is,  I  trust,  a  good  man.  He  possesses 
some  noble  qualities.  But  for  his  besetting  sin,  he 
might  be  one  of  the  most  successful  of  Christian  min- 
isters. As  it  is,  his  usefulness  is  equivocal.  Some 
good  he  seems  to  do  in  winning  souls  to  Christ,  and 
in  edifying  the  saints ;  but  such  large  subtractions 
must  be  made  for  the  reproach  which  he  brings  on  re- 
ligion, and  the  pain  which  he  inflicts  on  its  intelligent 
friends,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  say  on  which  side  the 
balance  is  found.  Many  admire  and  love  him,  and 
grieve  that  one  so  eminently  fitted  for  usefulness 
should,  by  his  frivolity,  so  sadly  mar  it. 

I  will  conclude  this  Lecture  with  a  few  remarks  to 
that  class  of  Christians  so  strikingly  represented  by 
Elder  Lightman. 

Frivolity  is  an  evil  not  easily  corrected.  The  lino 
of  demarcation  between  Christian  cheerfulness  and 
sinful  levity  is  not  in  all  cases  easily  drawn.  There 
may  be — there  often  is — a  gradual  and  unconscious 


162  FRIVOLOUS    CHRISTIANS. 

gliding  from  ^ight  to  wrong.  This  evil,  too,  may 
have  its  origin  in  the  best  impulses  of  our  nature — a 
social  disposition,  and  a  desire  to  please ;  and  no 
habit  grows  more  imperceptibly  and  more  vigorously 
than  that  of  frivolity.  Other  sins  are  checked  ;  this 
is  encouraged  by  society.  Other  sins  may  bring  us 
into  reproach  ;  this,  though  it  may  be  a  spot  on  our 
religious  character,  and  blight  our  religious  influence, 
will  make  us  acceptable  and  valued  companions  in 
many  circles  of  society,  from  which  consistent  piety  is 
excluded,  or  in  which  it  is  barely  tolerated.  Con- 
science, so  potent  in  the  correction  of  other  evils,  has 
but  little  power  in  curing  this.  It  may  be  so  plausi- 
bly justified,  or,  at  least,  excused  and  palliated,  that 
her  remonstrances  are  silenced,  or  reduced  to  faint 
and  unheeded  whispers.  And  yet  frivolity  is  an  evil, 
and  a  serious  one,  for  the  correction  of  which  those 
Christians  who  have  indulged  in  it  should  make  con- 
stant and  earnest  efforts.  That  I  may  aid  you,  my 
brethren,  in  curing  this  disease,  suffer  a  few  words  of 
exhortation. 

1.  Consider  its  mischievous  effects.  If  you  possess 
any  piety,  you  desire  to  be  useful,  and  the  fervency 
of  this  desire  agrees  with  the  depth  of  your  piety.  If 
your  levity  should  not  utterly  prevent,  it  will  certainly 
diminish  your  Christian  influence  and  usefulness.  Your 
companions  may  give  you  full  credit  for  your  kindness, 
sociability,  and  pleasantry ;  but  if  they  do  not  dc8pise( 
they  will  lightly  esteem  your  religious  character. 
They  will  thiuk  less  of  religion  by  the  exemplification 


FRIVOLOUS    CHRISTIANS.  163 

of  it  furnished  in  your  spirit  and  manners.  If  they 
desire  religious  instruction,  they  will  not  seek  it  at 
your  lips ;  if,  in  times  of  distress  and  danger,  they 
wish  prayer  to  be  offered  to  God  on  their  behalf,  they 
will  not  apply  to  you  as  intercessors.  Your  example 
may  prove  a  terrible  curse  to  those  whom  you  most 
tenderly  love.  Your  companions — your  children — 
may  be  led  by  your  levity  ^ind  folly  to  despise  the 
gospel,  aud  the  Redeemer  whom  it  reveals,  and  to  lose 
their  souls. 

2.  Think,  dear  brethren,  Itow  incongruous  is  your 
frivolity  with  your  solemn  responsibilities.  Whether 
we  consider  the  price  at  which  you  have  been  redeem- 
ed— the  precious  blood  of  Christ ;  the  end  for  which 
you  are  kept  in  the  world — to  glorify  God  in  your 
bodies  and  spirits,  which  are  his  ;  or  the  enemies  with 
which  you  have  to  maintain  a  ceaseless  conflict ;  it  is 
most  seemly  that  you  should  "  pass  the  time  of  your 
sojourning  here,"  not  in  levity,  but  "  in  fear."*  You 
are  called  to  watchfulness,  the  mortification  of  your 
lusts,  a  life  of  earnest  piety ;  in  fine,  to  "  work  out 
your  own-  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling."  Need 
I  tell  you  how  incompatible  these  duties  are  with  a 
light  and  trifling  spirit  ?  Let  the  warrior  sport  in 
the  battle-field,  covered  with  carnage  and  blood — let 
the  mariner  sport  in  the  threatening  tempest — let  tin: 
surgeon  sport  in  the  hospital,  amid  the  sick  ami  dy- 
ing;  but  you,  my  brethren,  should  be  "  serious  in  :i 
ecrious  cause."  You  have  to  do  with  solemn  matters. 

*  1  IVt.  i;  17 


164  FRIVOLOUS  CHRISTIANS. 

Sin,  death,  arid  hell  are  serious  things.  You  may  be 
frivolous,  but  angels,  Christ,  and  God  are  serious. 
You  will  not  always  laugh.  Death  is  a  solemn  event. 
It  is  no  light  thing  for  a  trifler  to  die.  If  the  emi- 
nent Grotius,  when  he  was  about  to  die,  declared,  be- 
cause he  had  devoted  himself  to  secular  learning 
rather  than  the  study  of  the  Bible,  that  he  had  spent 
his  life  in  laborious  trifling,  in  what  terms  of  self-re- 
proach and  bitter  lamentation,  will  you  express  the 
folly  and  guilt  of  lives  wasted  in  thoughtless  frivolity  ? 
In  conclusion,  permit  me,  brethren,  to  urge  you,  if 
your  consciences  accuse  you  of  this  sin,  to  make  in- 
stant, determined,  earnest  efforts,  depending  on  divine 
aid,  to  overcome  it.  The  disease  is  hard  to  cure, 
but  not  incurable.  It  may  be  that,  to  exorcise  the 
demon,  prayer,  fasting,  watchfulness,  and  long-contin- 
ued struggling  may  be  necessary.  But  duty,  useful- 
ness, enjoyment,  safety,  and  the  glory  of  Christ  de- 
mand the  effort  and  the  sacrifices.  A  peaceful  death, 
a  memory  blessed,  and  a  glorious  reward  in  heaven, 
beckon  you  to  fight  till  you  have  gained  the  victory. 


LECTURE  XL 

SENSITIVE     CHRISTIANS. 

By  Sensitive  Christians  I  do  not  mean  such  as 
are  remarkable  for  the  liveliness  of  their  religious  feel- 
ings. This  is  a  choice  class  of  Christians.  I  once 
had  the  pleasure  of  numbering  brother  Lively  among 
my  constant  hearers.  He  always  took  his  seat  near 
the  pulpit,  and  listened  to  the  Word  preached  with 
intense  interest,  and  a  heart  responsive  to  all  its 
claims.  His  absorbed  attention,  the  variations  in  his 
countenance,  and  his  flowing  tears,  evinced  the  warmth 
of  his  feelings.  Nor  did  his  emotions  die  away  with 
the  sound  of  the  preacher's  voice,  but  subsequently 
showed  themselves  in  the  spirituality  of  his  conversa- 
tion, the  fervor  of  his  devotions,  and  the  activity  of 
his  efforts  in  the  cause  of  Christ,  If  on  the  face  of 
the  earth  there  was  a  church  composed  of  such  mem- 
bers as  brother  Lively,  I  should  delight  to  be  their 
pastor.  Widely  different,  however,  are  such  Chris- 
tians from  the  class  of  which  I  am  going  to  speak.  I 
will  make  no  apology  for  delineating,  this  evening,  the 
character  of  brother  Touchy,  with  whom,  if  you  have 
no  personal  acquaintance,  you  may  deem  yourselves 
fortunate.  He  is  rather  a  distinguished  member  of 
the  class  of  Sensitive  Christians. 


166  SENSITIVE    CHRISTIANS. 

This  disciple  has  some  excellent  qualities.  He  is 
scrupulous,  almost  to  a  fault.  Ou  all  questions  of 
duty,  he  is,  from  temperament,  an  ultraist.  Some 
years  ago  the  propriety  of  making  abstinence  from  the 
use  of  intoxicating  drinks  a  condition  of  church  mem- 
bership, was  discussed  in  the  church  to  which  he  be- 
longed. Of  course,  he  was  in  favor  of  the  new  test  of 
fellowship.  In  debating  the  question,  a  brother  said 
to  him,  "  The  principles  which  you  advocate  would 
lead  to  the  exclusion  of  church-members  for  using 
coffee,  tea,  or  tobacco."  "  Yes,"  replied  brother 
Touchy,  "  and  I  am  in  favor  of  carrying  out  the  prin- 
ciple." And  so,  no  doubt,  he  was,  sincerely  and  hon- 
estly. I  should  never  expect  this  brother  to  do  a 
mean  thing.  He  may  act  rashly  or  foolishly  ;  but  he 
has  no  trickery  or  unfairness.  He  would  be  a  valua- 
ble member  of  the  church  were  it  not  for  his  charac- 
teristic infirmity.  This  renders  him  good  for  no- 
thing. Brother  Toucliy's  great  fault  is  his  sus- 
ceptibility of  being  wounded — his  readiness  to  take 
offence.  The  most  harmless  action  or  word,  or 
even  look,  may  fill  him  with  grief,  or  kindle  his  re- 
sentment. A  thousand  may  be  addressed,  but  he  is 
sure  your  remarks  are  intended  for  him.  You  may 
speak  of  a  class,  or  of  an  abstract  quality,  but  he  con- 
siders your  words  offensively  personal.  You  may 
explain  your  meaning,  but  your  explanation  is  almost 
certain  to  be,  in  his  estimation,  worse  than  the  origi- 
nal offence.  You  may  keep  silent,  but  he  interprets 
your  silence  as  a  want  of  respect  to  himself.  You 


SENSITIVE    CHRISTIANS.  167 

may  compliment  him,  and,  although  he  is  fond  of  com- 
pliments, two  to  one  but  he  will  suspect  you  of  a  de- 
sign to  flatter  him,  and  be  sincerely  grieved.  You 
may  speak  to  him  in  jest,  but,  understanding  you  se- 
riously, he  is  sorely  hurt ;  or  you  may  speak  to  him 
seriously,  and  suspecting  you  of  jesting,  he  will  be 
equally  wounded.  With  almost  every  member  of  the 
church,  at  one  time  or  another,  he  has  been  displeased. 
He  was  greatly  distressed  and  offended  because  sister 
Good  said  that  his  son  John,  a  petted,  spoiled,  and 
rude  boy,  behaved  badly  in  church — a  fact  known  to 
all  the  congregation.  On  one  occasion  Deacon  Faith- 
ful made  some  remarks  about  church-members  who 
were  delinquent  in  the  payment  of  their  church  sub- 
scriptions— remarks  kind,  pertinent,  and  weighty,  as 
his  remarks  always  were.  It  happened  that  brother 
Touchy  belonged  at  the  time,  though  it  was  an  un- 
usual thing,  to  this  class  ;  and  he  was  dreadfully  hurt 
by  the  Deacon's  remarks;  and  long  and  affectionately 
did  the  Deacon  labor  before  he  could  heal  the  wound. 
Brother  Touchy  was  peculiarly  liable  to  be  grieved 
with  his  pastor.  He  had  been  under  the  charge  of 
several  pastors,  before  I  took  the  oversight  of  the 
church.  They  were  excellent  men,  of  very  different 
characters  and  gifts,  but  all  eminently  useful.  Uro- 
tlier  Touchy  was  grieved  and  offended  with  them  all. 
I  was  apprized  of  his  character,  and  resolved,  if  possi- 
ble, to  avoid  hurting  his  feelings;  but  it  \\-.\n  nut  pos- 
sible. In  a  short  time,  I  took  occasion  to  warn  my 
hearers  against  the  danger  of  attending  dram  shops. 


168  SENSITIVE    CHRISTIANS. 

It  unfortunately  happened  that  this  brother  had  re- 
cently visited  one  on  business,  and  supposing  that  I 
designed  to  reprove  him  for  his  conduct,  he  was 
greatly  distressed.  When  I  heard  of  this  trouble,  I 
went  to  him,  and  by  assuring  him  that  I  had  not 
heard  of  his  visit  to  the  dram  shop,  and  did  not  even 
see  him  in  the  congregation  at  the  time  of  the  offen- 
sive remarks,  I  succeeded  in  quieting  his  mind.  But 
it  did  not  avail  much ;  for  in  a  little  while  he  was 
again  offended  at  some  equally  harmless  remark,  and 
during  the  whole  period  of  my  ministry  in  the  church 
has  been  receiving  wounds  which  I  have  no  little 
trouble  in  healing.  Fortunately  for  brother  Touchy 
these  wounds  leave  no  scars,  else  he  would  be  one  of 
the  most  frightful  of  living  beings. 

It  must  in  fairness  be  said  that  brother  Touchy  is 
not  malicious.  He  is  "  soon  angry,"  but  his  anger  soon 
abates.  His  infirmity  is  far  more  injurious  to  him- 
self than  to  any  one  else.  Now  that  his  character  is 
well  known,  nobody  is  surprised  to  hear  that  he  is  of- 
fended, and,  in  truth,  nobody  has  any  great  concern 
about  it.  All  have  come  to. view  it  as  one  of  those  in- 
evitable occurrences  which  must  be  borne  with  patience 
and  resignation. 

I  have  carefully  inquired  for  the  cause  of  brother 
Touchy's  sensitiveness.  Whether  the  man  was  a 
spoiled  child,  -I  do  not  know ;  but  he  acts  much  as  if 
it  were  so.  Perhaps  he  is  of  an  unfortunate  nervous 
temperament,  which  renders  him  peevish  and  tender. 
On  one  point  I  am  perfectly  certain — pride  has  much 


SENSITIVE    CHRISTIANS.  169 

to  do  with  his  sensibility.  He  sometimes  makes  me 
his  confident,  and  pours  his  grievances  into  my  ears. 
I  never  fail  to  notice  in  the  account  which  he  gives  of 
his  supposed  insults  and  injuries,  that  lie  represents 
that  due  respect  has  not  been  paid  to  his  age,  office,  or 
character.  On  one  occasion  he  was  invited  to  dine 
with  an  amiable  brother :  a  large  company  was  pre- 
sent. He  was  not  invited  to  take  a  seat  at  the  first 
tableland  he  became  violently  offended,  and  left  the 
house.  As  soon  as  the  mistake  was  discover- 
ed, the  good  brother  went  in  pursuit  of  the 
offended  guest,  and  assured  him  that  he  had  been  sim- 
ply overlooked,  and  apologized  in  the  most  courteous 
manner  for  the  seeming  neglect ;  but  brother  Touchy, 
more  than  usually  resentful,  refused,  in  a  most  un- 
christian spirit,  to  receive  the  apology.  His  dignity 
had  been  offended,  and  could  not  be  easily  appeased. 
Brother  Touchy  was  visionary  as  well  as  sensitive. 
He  formed  a  favorable  opinion  of  his  own  abilities, 
and  his  mind  was  usually  pregnant  with  wild  and  im- 
practicable schemes.  By  some  means  it  came  to  his 
knowledge  that  Elder  Weigh-well  had  a  poor  opinion 
of  his  judgment.  From  that  day  forward  the  Elder 
was  considered  by  him  as  a  personal  enemy,  though 
nothing  was  farther  from  the  truth.  He  was  greatly 
pained  that  one  whose  favorable  opinion  he  would 
have  prized,  should  think  so  unjustly  of  him ;  and  his 
grief  found  vent  in  language  of  self-adulation  and 
bold  defiance.  But  enough  of  brother  Touchy'1  s  faults. 
I  have  some  important  advice  to  offer  to  that  some- 


170  SENSITIVE    CHRISTIANS. 

what  numerous  and  respectable,  but  very  unfortunate, 
class  of  Christians  to  which  Mr.  Touchy  belongs  : — 

1 .  Be  sure  you  take  no  offence  'when  none  is  in- 
tended.    In  such  a  world  as  this,  offences  must  of  ne- 
cessity conie.     So  diversified  are  the   tempers,  views, 
interests,  and   pursuits  of  men,  that  conflicts  and  in- 
juries must  occur ;  and  the  real  offences  in  this  life 
are  sufficiently  numerous  without   adding  to  the  list 
imaginary  ones.     Be   careful,   then,  brethren,  not   to 
misconstrue  iunoeent  words  and  actions  into  serious 
insults.     You  know,  or  ought  to  know,  your  infirmity, 
and  should  guard   against  it.     If  any  person  offends 
you  without   designing  to  do  it,  the  blame   is  yours, 
and  not  his;  and  every  such  instance  of  groundless 
irritation  is  a  reproach  both   on  your  judgment  and 
your   temper ;    and  should  these   instances   increase, 
they  will  furnish  decisive  proof  of  your  indiscretion ; 
and,  at  length,  in  every  contest  it  will  be  taken  for 
granted  that  you  are  wrong  and  your  opponents  right. 
When  brother  Love  heard  that  brother  Touchy 's  feel- 
ings were  hurt  by  Deacon   Faithful,  he  said,  with  a 
most  significant  smile,  "  No  wonder  !" 

2.  Be  careful  that  you  do  not  indulge  a  resentment 
disproportionate  to  the  offence  given.      The  offence 
may  have  originated  iu  iuconsiderateness,  or  a  misap- 
prehension of  your  conduct,  or   some  occasional  im- 
pulse; and  the  offender  may  disapprove  and  lament 
his  conduct.     A  merited  resentment  will  be  justified  by 
public  sentiment,  and  is  tolerated  b}r  Christianity.  '•  Be 
ye  angry,  and  sin  not."     But  a  fierce  and   unreason- 


SENSITIVE    CHRISTIANS.  171 

able  resentment  will  place  you  in  the  wrong,  and  give 
the  offender  the  advantage  of  you.  I  well  remember 
Buch  a  case.  Sister  Touchy,  who  is  more  excitable, 
and  generally  more  easily  pacified  than  her  husband, 
was  offended  by  a  member  of  the  church.  The  of- 
fending sister  saw  and  confessed  her  fault,  and  ingen- 
uously asked  forgiveness  The  offence  was  slight, 
but  confession,  instead  of  extinguishing,  roused  the 
resentment  of  sister  Touchy  to  a  perfect  flame,  which 
had  well  nigh  caused  her  exclusion  from  the  church. 
So,  uiy  brethren,  you  see  it  is  not  only  important 
that  you  should  be  right  in  the  beginning  of  a  contest, 
but  that  you  should  continue  right  to  the  end. 

3.  Be  certain   ivkcn  you  are  offended  to  go  icith 
your  complaints  to  the  offending  brother  himself.  "  If 
thy   brother  shall   trespass  against  thee,  go  and  tell 
him  his  fault  between  thee  and   him  alone."     This  ia 
the  divine  rule ;  and  experience  has  demonstrated  its 
wisdom.     If  you  permit  any  supposed  flagrancy  of  the 
offence,  or  your  imaginary  dignity,  or  the  violence  of 
your  resentment,  to  prevent  you   from   obeying  this 
rule,  you  make  yourselves  offenders.      The  object  of 
your   displeasure   may  be   innocent,  but  you  are  not ; 
you  offend  against  your  brethren  and  against  Christ  | 
and  if  you  know  your  duty,  and  obstinately  refuse  to 
do  it,  you  must  settle  the  controversy  with  Him  whose 
authority  you  set  at  naught. 

4.  Lie  dlwtiys  retuli/  to  forgive  those,  who  have  of- 
fended t/uit,  on  the  /itst  sign  of  their  repentance.     It 
thy  brother '' trespass  against  thc«   *e\en   times   in   a 


172  SENSITIVE    CHRISTIANS. 

day,  and  seven  times  in  a  day  turn  again  to  thee,  say- 
ing, I  repent,  thou  shalt  forgive  him."  You  cannot 
judge  men's  hearts.  If  an  offending  brother  says,  I 
repent,  he  may  be  sincere — -God  knoweth — "  charity 
hopeth  all  things  ;"  and  you  are  bound  to  forgive  him. 
And  if  you  have  the  mind  which  was  in  Christ  Jesus, 
you  will  forgive  him  fully  and  gladly. 

5.  Constantly  bear  in  mind  that  God  exercises 
greater  patience  towards  you  than  you  are  called  to 
exercise  towards  any  man.  Our  offences  against  God 
have  been  causeless,  multiplied,  and  aggravated ;  and 
yet  he  has  forgiven  them  freely  and  fully,  and  at  the 
first  moment  of  our  hearty  repentance.  And  can  we 
cherish,  in  view  of  God's  compassion  to  us,  an  implacable 
spirit  toward  those, who  have,  in  comparison,  so  slightly 
offended  us  ?  Shall  we  imitate  the  example  of  the 
wicked  servant,  whose  master  forgave  him  ten  thou- 
sand talents  because  he  had  nothing  to  pay,  and  who 
inexorably  demanded  of  his  fellow  servant  the  payment 
of  fifty  pence  ?  A  hard,  unforgiving  spirit  is  incompat- 
ible with  the  existence  of  piety,  and  the  salvation  of 
the  soul.  "If  ye  forgive  not  men  their  trespasses, 
neither  will  your  Father  forgive  your  trespasses."* 

My  brethren,  I  have  a  word  of  advice  for  you,  rela- 
tive to  Sensitive  Christians.  Deal  gently  with  them. 
They  are  much  to  be  pitied.  They  are  frequently  an 
annoyance  to  their  brethren;  but  their  worst  enemies 
could  hardly  desire  that  they  should  harass  and  pun- 

*  Mat.  vi :  16. 


SENSITIVE    CHRISTIANS.  173 

ish  themselves  more  than  they  do.  You  would  not 
handle  a  man  roughly  who  has  no  skin  on  his  flesh. 
The  Touchy  family  are  more  sensitive  mentally  than 
such  a  man  would  be  bodily.  Act  toward  them  as, 
under  a  change  of  circumstances,  you  would  have  them 
to  act  toward  you.  Christians  of  this  class  are  scat- 
tered through  all  the  churches,  perhaps,  among  other 
things,  to  exercise  our  patience,  gentleness,  and  long 
suffering  —  important  Christian  graces  —  and  also  to 
teach  us,  by  comparison,  how  much  those  of  us  who 
have  a  souud  nervous  system,  and  the  power  of  gov- 
erning our  tempers,  are  indebted  to  the  Former  of  our 
bodies,  and  the  Sanctifier  of  our  spirits. 

Fearing  that  I  have  incurred  the  everlasting  dis- 
pleasure of  brother  Touchy,  and  all  his  family  and 
relatives,  I  can  and  do  appeal  to  the  Searcher  of 
hearts  for  the  purity  of  my  motives,  the  disinterested- 
ness of  my  aims,  and  the  truthfulness  of  my  delinea- 
tions. 


LECTURE  XII. 

CENSORIOUS     CHRISTIANS. 

MY  brethren,  we  are  no  where  forbidden  in  the 
Scriptures  to  form  candid  and  just  opinions  of  men's 
conduct  and  characters,  however  evil  they  may  be ; 
or,  from  proper  motives,  to  give  utterance  to  these 
opinions.  We  are  permitted  to  judge  of  false  proph- 
ets by  their  fruits.*  "  Judge  not  according  to  appear- 
ance, but  judge  righteous  judgment,"!  '1S  a  ru^e  of  our 
divine  Lord.  But  Censoriousness  is  a  disposition  to 
judge  hastily,  partially,  and  harshly,  and  to  give  need- 
less expression  to  the  false  judgment.  This  evil  is 
distinctly  and  emphatically  condemned  by  the  Spirit 
of  inspiration.  "  Put  them  in  mind,"  says  Paul,  "  to 
speak  evil  of  no  nmn."|  "  Judge  not,"  says  Jesus, 
"  that  ye  be  not  judged.  For  with  what  judgment  ye 
judge,  ye  shall  be  judged  ;  and  with  what  measure  ye 
mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to  you  again."||  The  God 
who  interdicts  murder  and  blasphemy,  with  equal 
clearness  and  authority  forbids  evil  surmising,  rash 
judgments,  and  evil  speaking.  A  censorious  disposi- 
tion indicates  a  bad  heart — a  heart  wholly,  or  in  part, 

*  Mat.  vii :  16.  f  John  vii ;  24.  $  Tit.  iii :  2. 

||  Mat.  vii :  1,2. 


CENSORIOUS    CHRISTIANS.  175 

tmsanctified — a  heart  selfish,  envious,  ambitious,  and 
misanthropic.  It  will  generally  be  found  that  the 
Censorious  are  guilty  of  sins  greater  than  those  which 
they  denounce  |  and  sometimes  they  vent  their  indig- 
nation on  the  very  tins  which  they  themselves  commit. 
"  Thou  art  inexcusable,  O  man,  whosoever  thou  art, 
that  judgest  ;  for  wherein  thou  judgest  another, 
thou  condemucst  thyself;  for  thou  that  judgest  dost 
the  same  things."* 

We  have  recorded  in  the  Scriptures  a  remarkable 
and  instructive  specimen  of  the  fault-finding  spirit,  f 
John,  the  harbinger  of  Christ,  was  a  man  of  abstemi- 
ous habits  :  he  "  came  neither  eating  nor  drinking." 
The  Jews  found  fault  with  him.  "  They  say,  He 
hath  a  devil."  None  but  a  demoniac  would  wholly 
abstain  from  the  generous  foods  and  exhilarating 
drinks  which  a  gracious  Providence  has  furnished  for 
our  nourishment  and  comfort.  Well,  to  obviate  their 
objection,  Jesus  was  more  sociable  in  his  manners, 
lie  "came  eating  and  drinking.''  Still,  the  Jews 
found  fault.  "  They  say,  Uehold,  a  man  gluttonous, 
and  a  winrbibber,  a  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners." 
Never  were  accusations  mure  unreasonable.  Jesus 
was  indeed  the  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners,  and 
lie  did  partake  witli  a  grateful  heart  of  the  wholesome 
food  and  drink  common  in  that  day  and  country  ;  but. 
that  In;  indulged  in  the  tdiirhte.st  excess  of  eating  or 
drinking  was  a  groundless  and  base  insinuation.  They 

*  Rom.  ii:   ).  (    Mat   xi :  18,  19. 


176  CENSORIOUS    CHRISTIAN?. 

were,  in  truth,  a  censorious  generation,  resolved  not 
to  be  pleased — equally  offended  with  piping  or  mourn- 
ing, with  austerity  or  sociableness.  That  generation 
has  long  since  passed  away ;  but  their  spirit  survives 
them,  and  displays  itself  in  endless  surmises,  cavils, 
and  denunciations. 

Censor iousness  is  a  very  prevalent  evil.  It  has  in- 
fected every  class  of  society,  and  rages  as  an  epideni' 
ic  within  the  precincts  of  many  Christian  churches. 
It  would  be  curious,  and  might  prove  instructive,  to 
estimate  what  proportion  of  the  words  in  many  re- 
fined and  pious  circles  are  words  of  suspicion,  detrac- 
tion, censure,  and  ridicule.  How  often  are  God,  the 
soul,  and  eternity  forgotten  in  the  eager  discussion 
of  the  frailties,  blunders,  and  misdoings  of  poor,  err- 
ing mortals.  These  fault-finders  well  nigh  reverse 
the  apostolic  injunction — "  Speak  evil  of  no  man," 
and  speak  evil  of  all  men. 

Censoriousness  is  a  very  great  evil.  Its  bitter 
fruits  are  alienation,  strifes,  the  disgrace  of  the  church, 
the  curse  of  souls,  the  discouragement  of  good  men, 
and  the  triumph  of  the  ungodly.  We  have  known  the 
peace  of  families  and  the  prosperity  of  neighborhoods, 
as  well  as  the  respectability  and  usefulness  of  individ- 
uals, utterly  subverted  by  this  spirit,  and  its  progeny 
of  misrepresentation,  fault-finding,  and  slanders.  "  The 
tongue  is  a  fire,  a  world  of  iniquity  :  so  is  the  tongue 
among  our  members,  that  it  defileth  the  whole  body, 
and  setteth  on  fire  the  course  of  nature ;  and  it  is  set 
on  fire  of  hell."* 


CENSORIOUS    CHRISTIANS.  177 

It  is  not  easy  to  delineate  the  character  of  Censori- 
ous Christians.  Censoriousness  exists  in  degrees  so 
various,  and  may  be  compounded  with  so  many  good 
and  so  many  bad  qualities,  that  no  individual  can  be 
considered  as  a  fair  representative  of  the  Class.  As, 
however,  brother  Carper  is  one  of  this  Class,  and  as 
I  have  the  advantage  of  an  intimate  acquaintance  with 
him,  I  have  resolved  to  introduce  him  to  my  audience. 

He  descended  of  the  Hategood  family  ;  but  grace  has 
made  him  differ  very  widely  from  his  kindred.  Few 
doubt  his  piety,  though  all  must  see  that  it  is  not  of 
the  most  lovely  and  attractive  type.  His  tempera- 
ment is  choleric.  From  one  class  of  vices  none  can 
be  freer  than  he.  To  the  excessive  indulgence  of  his 
appetites  he  has  no  temptation.  A  change  of  circum- 
stances might  make  him  an  anchorite,  but  not  an  epi- 
cure nor  an  inebriate.  But  to  another  class  of  sins 
he  is  peculiarly  prone.  Evil  surmising,  fault-finding, 
and  their  kindred  evils,  seem  in  his  nature  to  find  a 
congenial  and  fruitful  soil.  His  mind  is  singularly 
constituted.  It  is  almost  blind  to  beauties,  excellen- 
cies, and  advantages;  but  it  has  a  keen  perception  of 
defects,  deformities,  and  disadvantages.  He  scans 
every  thing  to  discover  its  imperfections ;  and  of  rare 
excellence  must  that  object  be  in  which  he  docs  iiot 
find  them.  Human  character  is  a  mixture  of  good 
nnd  evil  ;  and  the  most  we  can  reasonably  hope,  to 
find  in  the  best  is  a  great  preponderance  of  tlie  pood 
over  the  evil.  In  judging  of  human  conduct  we  must 
distinguish  between  what  is  habitual  and  what  in  or 


178  CENSORIOUS    CHRISTIANS. 

casional — between  what  springs  from  principle  and 
what  from  impulse;  we  must  weigh  motives,  make 
due  allowance  for  surrounding  circumstances,  and  then 
judge  charitably.  But  brother  Carper  judges  all 
men  by  the  same  unbending  rule ;  he  makes  no  allow- 
ance for  youth,  inexperience,  sudden  temptation,  past 
rectitude,  prompt  repentance,  and  full  reparation  :  all 
must  be  measured  on  the  same  Procrustean  bedstead. 

But  this  brother's  character  may  be  best  illustrated 
by  a  few  striking  facts  in  his  life.  Long  after  he  pro- 
fessed hope  in  the  Gospel,  he  was  kept  out  of  the 
church  by  its  manifold  imperfections.  He  saw  many 
inconsistencies  among  its  members — he  deemed  the 
pastor  a  good  man,  but  not  quite  sound  in  the  faith ; 
the  worship  of  the  church  was  not  according  to  his 
taste ;  and  its  discipline  was  less  rigorous  than  he 
thought  the  Scriptures  demanded.  The  truth  is,  he 
had  by  chance  got  possession  of  some  of  the  writings 
of  Robert  Sandeman,  of  Scotland,  and  his  religious 
sentiments  received  a  bias  from  that  distinguished,  but 
rigid  author.  After  years  of  instruction  and  persuasion, 
Mr.  Carper  so  far  yielded  his  scruples  as  to  be  bap- 
tized, and  unite  with  the  church.  As  he  was  an  in- 
telligent, respectable,  and  on  some  accounts,  worthy 
man,  his  entrance  into  the  church  was  hailed  with  de- 
light ;  but  it  was  the  beginning  of  trouble. 

Brother  Carper  soon  began  to  prove  a  serious  trial 
to  his  pastor.  He  felt  that  it  was  his  duty  to  exer- 
cise a  very  strict  and  constant  watch-care  over  him, 
to  correct  his  mistakes,  and  point  out  his  faults ;  and 


CENSORIOUS    CHRISTIANS,  179 

he  followed  his  vocation  in  no  very  lovely  spirit.  The 
pastor  deemed  it  proper  to  deliver  a  series  of  sermons 
on  a  highly  important  paragraph  of  Scripture.  They 
were  carefully  prepared,  earnestly  delivered,  and  lis- 
tened to  by  the  congregation  with  decided  interest ; 
but  brother  Carper  took  offence.  It  seemed  to  him 
unreasonable  that  so  many  sermons  should  be  founded 
on  a  single  text ;  and  he  entered  into  some  curious, 
and,  as  he  supposed,  instructive  calculations,  to  ascer- 
tain how  many  sermons  and  how  much  time  would  be 
required  at  this  rate  to  expound  the  whole  Bible. 
His  occasional  frowns  and  studied  inattention  during 
the  delivery  of  the  sermons,  as  well  as  remarks  made 
here  and  there,  without  any  tender  regard  to  the  min- 
ister's feelings,  indicated  pretty  plainly  how  deep  an 
impression  the  calculation  had  made  on  his  own 
heart.  But  as  he  could  neither  change  the  purpose 
of  his  pastor,  nor  arrest  the  prolix  discussion,  he 
withdrew  for  several  Sabbaths  to  churches  where  the 
sermons  bore,  in  his  estimation,  a  more  suitable  pro- 
portion to  the  length  of  the  text. 

Square-toed  boots  were  just  coming  into  fashion, 
and  tho  pastor,  all  unconscious  of  guilt  or  mischief, 
bought  a  pair.  At  the  close  of  the  Sunday  morning 
sermon,  brother  Carper,  taking  the  pastor  aside,  said 
to  him — "  Brother  Frccnum,  you  have  hurt  my  fcol- 
inga  to-day  very  much."  "  All  !"  replied  the  Klder, 
'•  how  did  I  do  it?  I  am  sure  I  did  not  intend  to  do 
it."  "  Why,"  said  Carper,  "  you  have  put  on  square- 
toed  boots — you  arc  following  the:  fashion — I'm  suro 


180  CENSORIOUS    CHRISTIAN.-. 

Elder  Worthall  would  not  do  such  a  thing."  A  dis- 
cussion ensued.  The  pastor  endeavored  to  convince 
him  that  there  was  neither  good  nor  evil  iu  the  shape 
of  his  boots — and  that  he  purchased  them  not  because 
they  were  fashionable,  but  fitted  his  feet,  and  were 
durable  and  cheap  ;  but  Carper  was  not  a  man  to  be 
silenced  by  arguments.  As  Elder  Freeman  was  a 
mild  and  conciliating  man,  he  said — "  Well,  brother 
Carper,  though  I  see  no  evil  in  wearing  boots  with 
square  toes,  yet  as  my  doing  so  wounds  your  feelings, 
I  will  not  wear  them  again."  "  Yes,  but,"  replied 
brother  Carper,  more  excited  than  before,  "  you  think 
it  right  to  wear  them — you  justify  the  practice — and 
this  is  as  bad  as  wearing  them."  Finding  it  impossi- 
ble to  heal  the  wound,  the  grieved  pastor  went  his 
way.  Carper  would  gladly  have  formed  a  party  in 
the  church  in  opposition  to  this  worldly  innovation  ; 
but,-  beyond  his  own  family,  his  views  met  with  but 
little  countenance,  and  his  efforts  served  to  strengthen 
rather  than  overthrow  the  pastor's  influence. 

The  church  music  was  a  source  of  perpetual  annoy- 
ance to  brother  Carper.  His  views  on  the  subject 
of  church  singing  were,  in  the  main,  quite  scriptural. 
He  maintained  that  in  public  worship  the  singing 
should  be  congregational,  intelligent,  and  spiritual; 
and  these  views  were  generally  conceded  to  be  sound. 
But  he  was  bitterly  opposed,  not  only  to  instrumental 
music,  but  also  to  employing  choirs  to  conduct  sing- 
ing in  public  worship.  He  thought  that  Christians 
should  do  their  own  singing,  and  that  unbelievers 


CENSORIOUS    CHRISTIANS.  181 

• 

should  receive  no  more  encouragement  to  lead  in  pub- 
lic singing  than  in  public  prayer.  For  entertaining 
these  opinions,  and  endeavoring  in  kindness  to  defend 
and  spread  them,  none  could  blame  him  :  but  he  could 
not  sing  himself,  made  no  effort  to  acquire  the  art  of 
singing,  or  to  have  others  improved  in  it ;  and  yet  he 
found  fault  with  the  singing.  Othersgave  their  attention 
time,  and  money  to  improve  the  church  music,  la- 
mented that  it  was  not  better,  and  that  the  congrega- 
tion was  so  little  qualified  and  inclined  to  participate 
in  this  delightful  part  of  worship;  but  brother  Carper 
did  nothing  but  find  fault. 

It  is  needless  to  multiply  statements  of  this  kind. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  name  a  practice  or  act  of  the 
church,  relating  to  worship,  discipline,  or  economy, 
with  which  brother  Carper  was  not  more  or  less  dis- 
satisfied. He  had  a  singular  affinity  for  the  minority, 
and  if  he  was  ever  found  with  the  majority  it  was 
purely  accidental.  He  was  opposed  to  renting  pews  ; 
it  was  a  respecting  of  persons— to  giving  pastors  a  stip- 
ulated salary  ;  it  tended  to  make  them  mercenary — 
to  a  permanent  appointment  of  pastors;  it  encour- 
aged their  idleness — to  the  erection  of  fine,  as  he 
called  neat  and  convenient,  houses  of  worship  ;  they 
engendered  pride — in  short,  he  was  opposed  to  old 
things,  because  they  were  antiquated,  and  to  nrw 
things,  because  they  were  innovations.  In  truth,  had 
he  been  in  Paradise  with  his  captious,  restless  spirit, 
he  would  have  been  dissatisfied.  Its  light  would  have 
too  [flaring;  its  music-  ton  rapturous ;  and  his 


182  CENSORIOUS    CHRISTIANS. 

soul  would  have  loathed  its  fruits,  as  did  the  Israel- 
ites the  manna  in  the  desert. 

In  a  philanthropic  spirit  brother  Carper  did  not 
appear  to  be  deficient — at  least,  he  was  not  in  profes- 
sions of  it.  He  saw,  exaggerated,  and  deplored  the 
evils,  moral  and  physical,  abounding  in  the  world ; 
but  he  was  violently  opposed  to  all  the  methods  adop- 
ted by  the  wise  and  good  for  their  removal  or  mitiga- 
tion. His  philanthropy  usually  evaporated  in  fault- 
finding and  denunciation.  He  had  greater  sympathy 
for  remote  than  contiguous  evils.  All  around  him 
were  neglected  subjects  of  depravity,  want,  and  mis- 
ery ;  but  his  thoughts  were  occupied  with  crimes  and 
woes  afar  off,  which  his  imagination  magnified,  and 
which  afforded  him  ample  scope  for  indulging,  with 
impunity,  his  peculiar  humor.  The  practicability  of 
redressing  evils  was  with  him  a  sufficient  reason  for 
neglecting  them.  Their  relief  would  call  into  exer- 
cise certain  qualities — patience,  beneficence,  and  in- 
dustry— which  would  suspend  or  embarrass  his  fa- 
vorite occupation  of  fault-finding.  Verily,  his  phi- 
lanthropy bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  misanthropy. 
Whether  a  disposition  to  magnify  evils,  to  denounce 
with  bitterness,  and  without  discrimination,  their  real 
or  supposed  authors,  and  to  neglect  or  oppose  every 
practical  method  for  their  alleviation,  is  to  be  traced 
to  a  misguided  philanthropy,  or  to  a  covert  misanthro- 
py, I  leave  to  be  determined  by  the  Searcher  of 
Hearts. 

One  thing  may  be  said  in  favor — if,  indeod,  it  is  in 


CENSORIOUS    CHRISTIANS.  183 

favor — of  Mr.  Carper.  He  seems  to  be  actuated  by 
a  high  sense  of  justice.  If  he  finds  fault  with  others, 
he  is  quite  willing  that  they  should  find  fault  with 
him.  He  is  not  merely  willing,  but  desirous  to  re- 
ceive railing  for  railing,  or  denunciation  for  denunci- 
ation. He  deems  the  love  of  popularity  one  of  the 
crying  evils  of  the  day ;  and  even  prejudice  cannot 
accuse  him  of  sharing  in  its  guilt.  He  covets  re- 
proach, and  glories  in  being  despised  ;  for,  in  his  judg- 
ment, reproach  and  infamy  arc  the  surest  tests  of  wis- 
dom, fidelity,  and  usefulness.  He  considers  himself 
enriched  and  ennobled  by  censures,  especially  such  as 
are  directed  against  his  idiosyncracy.  You  cannot 
inflict  on  him  a  more  painful  wound  than  not  to  no- 
tice, or  to  treat  with  kindness  his  censures. 

In  church  discipline,  as  might  reasonably  be  sup- 
posed, brother  Carper  is  exceedingly  rigorous.  He 
considers  the  exercise  of  discipline  one  of  the  greatest 
church  privileges.  He  may  be  absent  from  the  pray- 
er or  communion  meeting  from  slight  excuses ;  but 
from  meetings  for  the  exercise  of  church  discipline, 
nothing  but  invincible  necessity  can  detain  him.  In 
the  reception  of  members  to  church  fellowship,  he  is 
excessively  cautious  and  rigid  ;  and  he  is  always  la- 
menting that  candidates  for  membership  are  admit- 
ted with  so  little  knowledge ,  especially  as  to  what  con- 
stitutes the  turpitude  of  sin,  and  so  little  experience 
of  the  efficacy  of  divine  grace.  His  very  presence  is 
u  terror  to  young  converts,  and  the  questions  which 
he  propounds  to  them  wouM  frequently  perplex  a 


184  CENSORIOUS    CHRISTIAN'S. 

Doctor  of  Divinity.  For  offenders  in  the  churph  he 
makes  no  allowances,  and  feels  no  pity.  Excommu- 
nication is,  in  his  estimation,  a  sovereign  panacea  for 
the  diseases  of  the  body  ecclesiastic.  His  policy  re- 
sembles that  of  a  surgeon  who  should  resort  to  ampu- 
tation for  the  relief  of  every  wound,  however  slight 
and  easily  healed.  He  voted  for  the  exclusion  of 
sister  Tasteful,  because  she  purchased  a  piano  for 
her  daughter ;  of  brother  Independent,  because  he 
united  with  a  Free  Mason's  Lodge ;  and  of  brother 
Supple,  because  he  attended  a  Fourth  of  July  barbe- 
cue ;  and  sought  earnestly  to  eject  Elder  Freeman, 
from  the  pastorate  of  the  church  because  he  was  op- 
posed to  making  Total  Abstinence  from  all  intoxica- 
ting drinks  a  term  of  church  membership. 

From  two  or  three  considerations  I  would  briefly 
dissuade  my  brethren  from  indulging  a  Censorious 
spirit. 

1.  It  is  wrong.     God  hates,  forbids,  and  will  pun- 
ish it. 

2.  It  is  injurious.     Many  are  irritated  and  driven 
to  excesses,  but  none  are  reformed  by  it. 

3.  It  is  ignoble — the  mark  of  a  contracted,  selfish, 
petulent  mind.     To  excel  in  fault-finding  requires  nei- 
ther genius,  learning,   nor   study;  but  a  suspicious 
temper,  a  malignant  heart,  and  a  tattling  tongue. 


LECTURE  XIII. 

OBSTINATE      CHRISTIANS 

WE  do  not  mean  by  Obstinate  Christi  ins  such  aa 
have  a  clear  perception  of  duty,  a  settled  purpose  to 
perform  it,  and  an  indomitable  energy  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  their  schemes ;  or  those  who  possess,  what  is 
strikingly  delineated  by  Foster,  decision  of  character. 
These  constitute  the  most  excellent  and  efficient  class 
of  Christians.  They  are  the  men  who  erect  churches, 
conduct  Sunday  schools,  found  and  endow  colleges, 
form  and  execute  plans  for  extending  the  empire  of 
truth  and  righteousness — in  a  word,  the  working  men 
of  Christ's  kingdom.  Obstinacy  is  decision  of  char- 
ter, without  the  needed  restraints  of  prudence,  modesty 
and  kindness — a  compound  of  pride,  self-conceit,  scru- 
pulosity and  morosencss — the  luxuriant  and  thorny 
oflshoot  of  a  noble  and  fruit-bearing  tree — right,  over 
rigid,  hardened  into  wrong.  I  need  hardly  say  that 
this  is  a  prevalent  evil.  Few  churches  are  free  from 
its  malign  influence.  Pastors,  deacons,  and  old  and 
wealthy  church  members,  arc  must  likely  to  be  infeitcd 
with  it.  It  is  a  most  mischievous  <|ii:ility.  Tin;  Ob- 
stinate Christian  is  heedless  as  to  the  rights  and 
feelings  of  his  brethren,  reckless  as  to  the  conse- 


186  OBSTINATE  CHRISTIANS. 

quences  of  his  own  conduct,  and,  though  impelled  by 
what  he  deems  a  conscientious  regard  to  duty,  is  by 
no  means  scrupulous  as  to  the  means  of  accomplish- 
ing his  purposes.  In  meetings  for  church  disci- 
pline he  is  almost  invariably  a  pest ;  'disregarding 
alike  the  rights  and  feelings  of  the  majority  or  the 
minority,  if  they  oppose  his  views.  Our  public  meet- 
ings for  devising  and  prosecuting  plans  for  enlarging 
the  Redeemer's  kingdom,  which  should  ever  be  char- 
acterized by  affection  and  harmony,  are  too  frequently, 
through  his  perverseness,  converted  into  an  arena  for 
bitter  discussion  and  offensive  personalities.  Obsti- 
nacy, Christian  obstinacy,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  is  the 
author  of  confusion,  the  fomenter  of  strife,  the  father 
of  schism,  and  the  reproach  of  Christianity.  This 
evil  quality  exists  in  different  Christians  in  various 
degrees,  and  mingled  with  various  excellencies  and  in- 
firmities. 

I  propose  to  delineate  some  of  the  evils  of  obsti- 
nacy as  I  have  seen  them  in  the  life  of  Deacon  Head- 
strong, lie  is,  in  many  respects,  a  man  of  rare  worth. 
In  the  prosperity  of  the  church  none  doubts  that  he 
feels  a  very  deep  and  steady  interest.  Forty  years  he 
has  been  a  member  of  it,  and  more  than  thirty  years 
he  has  discharged  the  duties  of  the  deaconship.  He 
knew  the  church  in  its  infancy,  has  sympathized  in  its 
various  trials  and  triumphs,  and  has  contributed 
greatly  by  his  money  and  personal  attention  to  its 
present  elevation.  He  remembers  when  the  church 
met  in  a  small  "  upper  room,"  saw  the  foundation  of 


OBSTINATE  CHRISTIANS.  187 

the  first  church  edifice  laid,  assisted  in  enlarging  its 
dimensions,  and  finally  contributed,  with  noble  libe- 
rality, to  the  erection  of  a  new,  spacious  and  beauti- 
ful house  of  worship.  He  has  attended  the  funerals 
of  several  pastors,  and  been  the  fast  friend,  and  judi- 
cious counsellor  of  all,  from  Elder  Tnietnan  down  to 
Elder  Timothy.  The  Deacon  is  the  Gains  of  the 
church.  He  keeps  open  doors,  and  entertains  minis- 
ters and  Christian  brethren  with  an  ever-flowing  hos- 
pitality.  His  house  resembles  more  a  free  Christian 
hotel  than  a  private  dwelling.  Nor  does  his  liberality 
exhaust  itself  in  hospitality ;  but  being  independent 
and  prosperous,  almost  every  beneficent  and  religious 
enterprise  shares  in  his  benefactions.  Nor  do  his 
alms  go  up  to  Heaven  without  his  prayers.  He  is  a 
man  of  warm  heart,  and  sincere,  devoted  piety.  Ho 
is  scrupulous  to  a  fault,  for  it  is  frequently  apparent, 
especially  since  he  has  grown  old,  that  he  mistakes  a 
settled  purpose  for  the  dictates  of  conscience.  What 
he  wishes  to  do,  he  conscientiously  thinks  ought  to  be 
done;  and  he  is  equally  convinced  that  others,  as  well 
as  himself,  should  be  governed  by  the  dictates  of  his 
conscience.  On  the  whole,  however,  the  Deacon  is  a 
pillar  in  the  church.  His  good  sense,  sterling  piety 
and  great  energy  have  secured  for  him  a  strong  influ- 
ence among  his  brethren. 

A  great  pity  it  i.s  that  a  character  so  bright  as  that 
of  Dc/icon  Ifaulstrong  should  be  spotted;  but  spot- 
ted it  is.  He  is  ofjslitiatc ;  and  every  body  knows  it 
but  himself.  He  possessed  naturally  a  strong  will, 


188  OBSTINATE     CHRISTIANS. 

and  unwavering  purpose,  and  time,  instead  of  render- 
ing him  cautious  and  conciliatory,  has  made  him  un- 
yielding, dogmatic  and  morose.  He  will  have  hia 
own  way,  or  he  will  do  nothing.  When  in  a  good 
humor,  he  is  a  host  in  himself;  but  when  a  fit  of  ob- 
stinacy overtakes  him,  he  is  a  grief  to  the  church  and 
a  stumbling  block  in  the  path  of  sinners.  He  is  not 
always  unyielding.  There  are  times,  and  they  are 
neither  rare  nor  brief,  when  he  is  mild,  gentle,  con- 
ciliating, and  even  pliable.  It  were  difficult  to  say 
on  what  his  obstinacy  depends.  In  the  decision  of 
weighty  matters,  and  matters  which  deeply  interest 
him,  he  may  not  betray  any  self-will ;  but  in  the  de- 
cision of  a  trifling  question,  he  may  grow  determined 
and  overbearing.  When  once  he  has  fairly  taken  his 
stand,  the  matter  is  ended.  Had  you  the  wisdom  of 
Solomon,  the  authority  of  Peter,  the  zeal  of  Paul, 
and  the  eloquence  of  Apollos,  you  might  reason,  re- 
monstrate and  labor  with  him  in  vain.  You  might  as 
well  preach  to  a  sullen  ox,  or  an  intractable  mule,  as  to 
him.  He  is  not  the  man  to  be  convinced,  or  per- 
suaded against  his  once  firmly  expressed  opinion.  He 
does  not,  I  presume,  believe  himself  infallible ;  but, 
on  such  an  occasion,  he  acts  as  if  he  did  most  fully. 
If  the  church  decides  any  matter  contrary  to  his  judg- 
ment, (an  event  which  does  not  often  occur,)  and  he 
plants  himself  in  hostility  to  the  decision;  then,  if 
by  any  means,  she  can  change  that  decision  she  will 
find  it  greatly  to  her  peace.  The  Deacon  will  be  put 
into  the  best  possible  humor,  and  will  exert  himself 


OBSTINATE    CHRISTIANS  189 

to  promote  her  prosperity.  But  should  she  prove 
refractory,  that  is,  assert  her  rights,  she  may  antici- 
pate trouble.  The  grurn  and  shaded  countenance  of 
Deacon  Headstrong,  his  shy  and  silent  demeanor,  his 
changing  his  seat  in  the  sanctuary,  his  refusal  to  pray 
in  the  prayer-meeting,  and  his  neglect  of  his  official 
duties,  indicate  but  too  clearly  the  gathering  storm. 
The  church  is  now  in  a  dilemma.  Something  ought 
to  be  done — that  is  clear — but  what,  the  wisest  are  at 
a  loss  to  determine.  The  Deacon  is  wrong — this 
every  body  admits,  except  himself  and  a  few  parti- 
zans ;  but  he  is  a  good  man — an  old  and  venerated 
member — a  valuable  Deacon — has  many  warm  friends 
in  the  church  and  in  the  community — can  raise  a  re- 
spectable party  in  his  behalf — and  all  would  depre- 
cate any  rash  measures  in  the  case.  What  can  be 
done  ?  Deacon  Makepeace  proposes  that  the  subject 
shall  be  permitted  to  rest,  that  time  may  lend  its  in- 
fluence to  heal  the  breach.  The  proposal  is  readily 
concurred  in  by  the  church.  The  matter  rests,  so  far 
as  busy-bodies  will  permit.  Months  glide  away,  but 
there  sits  Deacon  Headstrong,  in  a  remote  part  of  the 
sanctuary,  with  the  same  morose  and  clouded  counte- 
nance, and  the  same  look  of  determination.  The 
truth  is,  there  are  but  two  courses  to  pursue.  The 
church  must  either  take  the  Deacon  under  discipline, 
with  the  prospect  of  agitation,  faction,  and  schism 
before  her  eyes;  or  retrace  her  steps. 

On  such   occasions  the   Deacon  is  not  particularly 
desirous  to    render    a    reason    for    hio   course.     The 


190  OBSTINATE   CHRISTIANS. 

church  is  under  great  obligations  to  him — he  contri- 
buted liberally  towards  the  erection  of  her  beautiful 
house  of  worship — has  done  much  to  promote  her  wel- 
fare— is  entitled  to  respect  on  account  of  his  age — and 
it  is  but  reasonable  that  his  wishes  should  be  regarded. 
I  must  notice  particularly  one  event  in  the  history 
of  this  good  man,  which  caused  him  great  grief,  and 
gave  his  enemies  an  occasion  to  reproach  him.  He 
had  an  altercation  with  his  pastor.  It  was  not,  at 
first,  serious.  It  might  have  been  easily  settled.  Had 
the  controversy  arisen  between  Deacon  Makepeace 
and  the  pastor  it  would  have  been  quickly  and  plea- 
santly adjusted.  But  Deacon  Headstrong  was  irasci- 
ble and  unyielding ;  and  the  pastor  was  indiscreet,  and 
not  faultless.  Every  effort  to  heal  the  dissension 
•widened  the  breach.  Parties  were  soon  formed  in 
the  church ;  and  discussions  engendered  bitterness. 
The  Deacon  was  supported  by  the  Trustees  of  the 
church,  and  by  the  old  and  wealthy  members ;  and 
the  pastor  was  followed  by  the  young,  the  active,  and 
the  devout.  As  the  obstinacy  of  the  Deacon  and  the 
imprudence  of  the  pastor  precluded  the  possibility 
of  an  amicable  settlement  of  the  difficulty,  a  division 
of  the  church  ensued.  The  right  to  the  property 
being  with  the  Deacon  and  his  party,  the  pastor  and 
his  adherents  seceded  from  the  church.  It  was  a  sad 
event — a  reproach  to  Christianity,  and  a  grief  to  good 
men.  None,  however,  so  deeply  deplored  it  as  the 
Deacon.  He  loved  the  church  as  his  own  life — had 
toiled  long,  and  made  great  sacrifices  for  it — had 


OBSTINATE    CHRISTIANS.  191 

Batched  its  growth  with  pride  and  pleasure — and  now 
to  see  it  rent  asunder  and  disgraced  was  a  calamity 
almost  too  great  for  him  to  bear.  He  wept  as  he 
would  have  done  at  the  death  of  his  first-born ;  and 
was  exceedingly  anxious  to  convince  his  friends  that 
he  had  done  all  iu  his  power  to  prevent  the  unfortu- 
nate division. 

Every  body  knew  that  the  obstinacy  of  Deacon 
Headstrong  b&d  caused  the  secession  from  the  church; 
but  his  most  intimate  friend  could  not  express  this 
conviction  without  forfeiting  his  favor.  This  Elder 
Candid  learned  from  experience.  The  Deacon, 
anxious  to  secure  the  good  opinion  of  the  Elder,  com- 
menced giving  him  a  minute  account  of  the  causes 
which  had  led  to  a  rupture  in  the  church  In  order 
that  the  conclusion  might  be  such  as  he  desired,  he 
deemed  it  proper  to  g;iiu  the  assent  of  Candid  to  all 
his  own  views  as  he  proceeded  in  the  narrative.  He 
soon  stated  a  principle  of  discipline  from  which  the 
Elder  dissented.  This  was  unfortunate  for  Head- 
strong. It  was  the  very  point  at  which  he  had  been 
most  .strongly  pressed  by  his  opponents.  If  that  prin- 
ciple was  not  admitted  his  course  could  not  be  vindi- 
cated. Candid,  knowing  the  temper  of  his  friend, 
would  gladly  have  avoided  the  discussion  of  the  <juos- 
tion.  He  endeavored  to  waive  it,  but  in  vain.  The 
DcaconwjM  resolved  to  convince  him  of  the  soundness" 
of  the  principle.  The  Elder  listened  long  nnd  pa- 
tiently to  the  arguments  in  its  support,  nnd  was  de- 
sirous that  the  narrative  should  be  resumed.  But 


192  OBSTINATE    CHRISTIANS. 

Headstrong  would  not  proceed  until  he  was  satisfied 
that  his  brother  agreed  with  him  on  this  point.  "Are 
you  convinced  that  I  am  right  ?"  inquired  the  Deacon. 
"  I  am  riot,"  answered  the  Elder.  "  What  reasons 
can  you  give  for  the  opposite  opinion  ?"  continued  the 
Deacon.  Finding  his  attempts  to  evade  discussion 
ineffectual,  the  Elder  clearly  stated  his  opinion,  and 
very  calmly  and  forcibly  the  arguments  in  its  sup- 
port. The  speech  was  like  a  dagger  piercing  the  heart 
of  poor  Mr.  Headstrong.  It  was  a  repetition  of  the 
very  arguments  which  he  had  heard  from  his  oppo- 
nents. He  plainly  perceived  that  failing  to  convince 
the  Elder  on  that  point,  his  conclusion  would  be 
favorable  to  the  seceding  party  which  had  caused 
him  so  much  distress,  and  he  abruptly  closed  the 
discussion  by  saying,  "  Brother  Candid,  I  am  old 
enough  to  be  your  father."  The  Elder  was  bound  to 
admit  the  correctness  of  the  remark,  and  had  age 
always  been  accompanied  by  wisdom,  he  would  have 
been  convinced  as  well  as  silent.  From  that  time 
Headstrong  counted  the  excellent  Candid  an  enemy. 
One  law  of  Christ  this  good  man  invariably,  so  far 
as  I  am  informed,  transgresses.  It  is  this — "  If  thy 
brother  shall  trespass  against  thee  go  tell  him  his 
fault,  between  thee  and  him  alone."  He  is  not  igno- 
rant of  the  law — he  greatly  prizes  it  as  a  rule  of  con- 
duct for  others — and  it  must  be  conceded  that  as  a 
disciplinarian  he  has  sound  judgment,  great  experi- 
ence and  discretion,  and  no  ordinary  tact — but  when 
offended  himself,  a  false  view  of  his  dignity,  with  a 


OBSTINATE    CHRISTIANS.       .  193 

certain  stubbornness  of  disposition,  prevents  him  from 
seeking  a  personal  and  private  explanation.  The  of- 
fender, he  thinks,  should  come  to  him.  The  offense 
has  been  unprovoked,  and  the  reparation  should  be 
spontaneous. 

Deacon  Headstrong,  though  resembling  him  m 
some  points,  differs  widely  in  others,  from  Deacon 
Diotrephes*  They  are  both  self-willed,  obstinate, 
and  uncontrollable ;  but  Diotrephes  is  selfish,  mali- 
cious, aspiring  merely  after  power  and  preeminence  ; 
while  Headstrong  is  disinterested,  pious,  and  seeking 
only  the  welfare  of  the  church.  The  same  natural 
disposition  is  showing  itself  in  the  depravity  of  Dio- 
trephes, and  the  piety  of  Headstrong.  In  the  one  it 
is  an  infirmity,  an  evil,  which  grace  has  not  yet  reme- 
died— in  the  other  it  is  the  unchecked  current  of  an 
unsanctificd  heart.  Deacon  Headstrong  often  sees, 
bitterly  laments,  and  earnestly  combats  his  besetting 
sin  ;  but  Diotrephes  glories  in  his  influence,  distinction, 
and  deeds.  Whether  grace  would  have  made  Dio- 
trepfics  such  a  man  as  Deacon  Headstrong,  I  cannot 
say ;  but  quite  certain  I  am,  that  Headstrong,  with- 
out grace,  would  greatly  resemble  Diotrephes. 

I  can  hardly  think  of  Deacon  Headstrong  without 
weeping.  I  love  him,  and  more,  I  admire  him  for  his 
sincerity,  his  integrity,  his  generosity,  his  pious  la- 
bors ;  in  short,  every  thing  but  his  morose,  overbear- 
ing obstinacy.  Cured  of  this  infirmity,  he  would  be 

*  8  John  ix. 


194  OBSTINATE  CHRISTIANS. 

a  priceless  jewel  in  any  church.  As  it  is,  his  influence 
is  equivocal — his  good  is  evil  spoken  of — his  brethren 
love  him  and  dread  him — they  cannot  well  do  with- 
out him,  nor  well  do  with  him.  He  is  the  pastor's 
best  friend,  wisest  counsellor,  firmest  supporter,  and 
greatest  grief.  He  is  an  honor  and  reproach  to  the 
Christian  cause ;  his  piety  none  doubts,  and  his  in- 
firmity every  body  sees  ;  his  over-bearing  course  fills 
discreet  Christians  with  sorrow,  weak  Christians  with 
resentment,  and  affords  amusement  to  sceptics  and 
cavilers. 

I  have  already  intimated  that  Obstinate  Christians 
are  a  numerous  class;  but  few  of  them,  however, 
compare  favorably  with  Deacon  Headstrong.  He  is, 
certainly,  one  of  the  best  of  his  class.  None  is  more 
obstinate  than  he  ;  but  he  possesses  so  many  redeem- 
ing qualities,  that  we  almost  forget,  and  readily  for- 
give his  obstinacy.  Many  are  not  only  obstinate,  but 
ignorant,  weak-minded,  selfish,  irrascible,  indiscreet, 
and  good  for  nothing.  I  am  sorry  from  my  heart  to 
see  the  Deacon  in  such  bad  company ;  and  I  am  sur- 
prised that  a  man  of  his  sense  and  worth  does  not 
perceive  the  qualities  which  usually  distinguish  his 
class,  and  abandon  it.  By  the  way,  I  am  reminded 
that  Deacon  Firmly,  whose  character  was  bordering 
on  obstinacy,  was  greatly  profited  by  witnessing  the 
perverseness  of  his  much  loved  brother,  Headstrong. 
He  saw  so  clearly  the  folly  and  mischief  of  a  dogged 
and  uncontrollable  self-will  in  the  conduct  of  Deacon 
Headstrong,  that  he  heartily  loathed  it,  and  was 


OBSTINATE  CHRISTIANS.  195 

greatly  assisted  in  guarding  against  that  tendency  in 
his  own  disposition.  So  we  may  thank  God,  not  only 
for  the  good  the  Deacon  accomplishes  by  his  direct 
and  liberal  efforts,  but  for  the  good  which  grace  ex- 
tracts from  his  evil  example. 

I  offer  a  few  remarks  to  Obstinate  Christians — 
1.  Consider  that  other  persons  have  minds,  and 
knowledge3,  and  feelings,  and  rights  as  well  as  your- 
selves ;  and  that  to  these  you  should  pay  due  respect. 
You  owe  kindness,  courtesy,  and  gentleness  to  every 
human  being  with  whom  you  may  have  intercourse. 
If  you  were  isolated  you  might  pursue  your  own  way 
without  restraint  or  injustice;  but  you  are  members 
of  society,  and  society  can  be  maintained  in  harmony 
only  by  mutual  concessions  and  forbearance.  Obsti- 
nate men  are  unfit  for  society.  A  church  composed 
of  obstinate  members  would  more  resemble  a  menag- 
erie of  untamed  beasts  than  the  gentle  flock  of 
Christ. 

2.  Remember  that  you  are,  like  other  men,  liable  to 
err  iu  judgment.     You  have  had  so  many  opportuni- 
ties of  seeing  your  mistakes  and   follies,  that   I  am 
amazed  that  you  should  still  expect  others  to  confide 
in  you  as  infallible.     Can  your  blunders  never  teach 
you  to   distrust  your  own  judgments  ?      "  He  that 
thinketh  he  knoweth   anything,  knoweth  nothing  yet 
as  he  ought  to  know." 

3.  Be  always   willing,  especially  in   matters  which 
personally  concern  you,   to.be  guided   by  the  wisdom 
and  experience  of  the  disinterested.     You  arc  not  re- 


196  OBSTINATE  CHRISTIANS. 

quired  in  any  case  to  violate  the  dictates  of  your  con- 
sciences ;  but  be  careful  that  you  do  not  mistake  your 
inclinations  and  settled  purposes  for  these.  This  is 
your  danger.  Men  are  often  conscientiously  wrong. 
"  I  verily  thought  with  myself,"  said  Paul,  "  that  I 
ought  to  do  many  things  contrary  to  the  name  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  which  things  I  also  did."  And 
yet  his  conduct,  as  he  subsequently  saw  and  confessed, 
was  extremely  wicked. 

4.  Bear  in  mind  that  your  obstinacy,  while  it  may 
enable  you  'to  carry  some  favorite  points,  will  greatly 
diminish  your  influence  and  usefulness.     All  men  lis- 
ten with  pleasure  to  the  suggestions  of  the  gentle,  the 
unassuming,  and  the  conciliating;  but  the  words  of 
the  self-willed  and  overbearing  are  heard  with  distrust 
and  dissatisfaction.     Most  men  are  willing  to  follow 
a  leader,  but  no  man  wishes  to  be  dictated  to. 

5.  The  best  corrective  of  your  evil  disposition  is  to 
witness  its  fruits  in  others.     I  am  sure  you  will  hate 
your  own  image  in  your  neighbor's  face.     If  you  can 
see  the  obstinate  man,  supplying  the  lack  of  reason 
by  the  strength  of  his   inclination,  and  pursuing  his 
useless  way  unmindful  of  the  wishes   of  friends,  and 
the  rights  of  his  associates,  without  loathing   the  dis- 
position, and  resolving,  and  fervently  praying,  to  be 
freed  from  it,  you  are  incurable. 

In  conclusion,  my  brethren,  let  us  all  guard  against 
this  evil.  Obstinacy  begets  obstinacy.  In  dealing 
with  an  obstinate  man  we  instinctively  place  our- 
selves in  an  attitude  of  firmness  and  defiance.  Igno- 


OBSTINATE  CHRISTIANS.  197 

ranee,  stupidity,  and  depravity  may,  and  probably 
will,  be  obstiuate  ;  but  to  yield  when  we  cannot  longer 
contend  with  dignity ;  to  acknowledge  our  wrong 
when  we  are  convinced  of  it ;  to  retrace  our  steps 
when  equity  or  prudence  demands  it ;  and  to  be  con- 
ciliating and  gentle  in  our  dealings  with  men,  even  the 
obstinate,  are  marks  of  an  ingenuous  and  noble  mind ; 
and  whoever  may  be  lacking  in  these  qualities,  the 
Christian  should  not,  and  the  enlightened  and  consis- 
tent Christian  will  not  be. 


LECTURE  XIV. 

• 

SPECULATIVE     CHRISTIANS. 

l 

I  DO  not  by  Speculative  mean  Inquisitive  Chris- 
tians. Inquisitiveness  is  one  of  our  instincts,  con- 
ferred on  us  by  our  beneficent  Creator  for  a  noble 
purpose.  It  is  the  intellectual  appetite  for  appropriate 
nourishment.  When  duly  directed  and  regulated,  it  is 
the  mainspring  of  the  attainments  in  knowledge  and  wis- 
dom, on  which,  in  a  great  measure,  Christian  useful- 
ness depends.  I  would  that  Christians  were  more  in- 
quisitive to  understand  God's  words  and  ways  than 
they  are.  Nor  is  Speculation  in  itself  an  evil.  God 
has  endowed  us  with  a  capacity  for  speculation ;  and 
he  does  not  interdict  its  exercise,  even  on  religious 
subjects.  Let  us  be  careful  not  to  confound  the  ob- 
jects of  faith  and  the  objects  of  speculation  —  the 
truths  of  revelation  and  the  deductions  of  reason  ;  and 
no  mischief  can  arise  from  the  boldest  flights  of  imag- 
ination, or  the  most  startling  deductions  of  reason. 
By  Speculative  Christians,  I  mean  such  as  are  more 
curious  than  practical — more  disposed  to  dive  into 
profound  subjects  than  to  profit  by  such  as  are  clear. 
We  have  a  specimen  of  this  curiosity  in  the  conduct 
)f  Peter.  "  Lord,"  said  he,  "  and  what  shall  this 


SPECULATIVE    CHRISTIANS.  199 

man  do  ?"  referring  to  John.  A  thousand  important 
questions  pertaining  to  duty  and  interest  he  might 
have  asked  ;  but  he  propounded  one  of  idle  curiosity, 
and  Jesus  rebuked  his  prying  disposition.  "  If  I 
will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that  to  thee  ? 
Follow  thou  me."*  Thi§  class  of  Christians  is  not 
very  numerous,  but  may  be  found  interspersed  through 
all  the  churches.  They  are  always  useless,  generally 
harmless,  but  sometimes  their  notions  engender  strife 
and  divisions. 

I  shall  make  no  apology  for  introducing  to  this  au- 
dience an  eminent  Speculatist — Elder  Clever — as  I 
am  sure  I  cannot  more  clearly  describe  the  class  of 
Christians  under  consideration  than  by  furnishing  a 
brief  memoir  of  his  life. 

Elder  Clever  possessed  a  peculiar  intellect.  He 
was  remarkable  rather  for  imagination  than  for  judg- 
ment— fur  curiosity  than  for  the  power  of  analysis. 
He  always  seemed  disposed  to  dive  to  the  bottom,  or 
rise  to  the  summit  of  every  subject  which  attracted 
his  attention.  When  he  was  a  school-boy  he  spent 
much  time  in  fruitless  efforts  to  invent  a  perpet- 
ual motion,  and  frequently  supposed  he  had  attained 
his  object.  Mr.  Clever's  experience  was  very  singu- 
lar. He  seemed  quite  conscious  of  his  depravity  and 
guilt,  and  was  occasionally  deeply  anxious  about  his 
state ;  but  his  mind  was  perplexed  concerning  the 
mode  of  tho  Spirit's  operation  in  a  sinner's  conversion, 
and  the  nature  of  Christ's  atonement.  A  fact,  how- 
*  John  xx  :  21.  'I'l. 


200  SPECULATIVE  CHRISTIANS. 

ever,  will  better  serve  to  display  his  peculiar  mental 
tendency.  He  attended  a  meeting  of  deep  religious 
interest  and  feeling.  Many  were  converted,  and  re- 
joicing in  Christ.  Mr.  Clever  was  awakened,  over- 
whelmed, and  bathed  iu  tears.  He  came  to  Elder 
Kind/man,  and  desired  to  have  a  private  interview 
with  him,  to  which  the  Elder  kindly  and  promptly  as- 
sented, for  he  had  marked  his  distress.  Being  at  a 
country  house  of  worship,  they  took  a  long  walk  into 
the  forest,  and  after  seating  themselves,  young  Clever 
commenced  :  "  Mr.  Kindman,  I  have  long  desired  to 
have  a  private  conversation  with  you.  I  have  a  ques- 
tion to  ask,  which  I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  answer : 
Can  you  tell  me  who  Melchisedec  was  ?"  The  El- 
der scarcely  knew  whether  to  laugh  or  weep  at  the  un- 
expected and  profitless  question.  After  some  years 
of  inquiry,  and  occasional  seasons  of  anxiety,  Mr 
Clever  obtained  confidence  to  offer  himself  as  a  candi- 
date for  membership  in  the  Soaring  church,  in  the  dis- 
trict of  Utopia.  His  experience  was  deemed  satis- 
fiictory,  and  very  favorable  anticipations  of  his  use- 
fulness were  entertained. 

The  thoughts  of  Mr.  Clever  were  soon  directed  to 
the  subject  of  his  entrance  on  the  Christian  ministry. 
The  brethren  warmly  seconded  his  desires,  and  he 
commenced  a  course  of  studies  preparatory  to  his  ex- 
pected vocation.  Of  his  college  course  I  have  no  in- 
formation, except  that  his  studies  were  desultory,  his 
attainments  superficial,  and  he  was  well  pleased  with 
his  own  progress.  During  his  theological  term,  he 


SPECULATIVE    CHRISTIANS.  201 

much  neglected  his  text  books,  for  German  authors  of 
the  Transcendental  school,  and  certain  English  poets 
and  essayists  of  the  same  stamp.  He  finished  his 
studies,  returned  to  Utopia,  and  was  considered  by 
many  members  of  the  Soaring  church  one  of  the 
brightest  geniuses.  At  this  time,  as  I  resided  not 
far  from  the  same  district,  my  acquaintance  with  bro- 
ther Clever  commenced.  I  assisted  in  his  ordination. 
He  preached  a  sermon  before  the  Presbytery  from  the 
words — "  For  the  creature  was  made  subject  to  van- 
ity, not  willingly,  but  by  reason  of  him  who  hath  sub- 
jected the  same  in  hope."*  I  need  say  nothing  of 
the  sermon,  but  that  I  could  not  understand  it.  I 
doubted  the  propriety  of  his  ordination,  but  was  over- 
ruled by  the  Presbytery,  and  yielded  to  the  earnest 
solicitation  of  the  church. 

Soon  after  his  ordination,  he  came  to  my  study,  in 
great  haste,  inquiring  whether  I  had  "  Locke  on  the 
Human  Understanding,"  "  Stewart's  Philosophy," 
and  other  metaphysical  works,  whose  titles  I  have  now 
forgotten.  I  asked  him  what  use  he  wished  to  make 
of  them,  and  he  informed  me  that  he  was  preparing  a 
sermon  on  the  subject  of  faith,  and  desired  to  have  a 
more  distinct  conception  of  the  mental  process  of  be- 
lieving. I  endeavored,  but  in  vain,  to  convince  him 
that  the  Bible  would  answer  the  purpose  of  making 
believers  better  than  any  works  on  mental  philosophy. 
T  never  learned  the  result  of  his  sormon. 


202  SPECULATIVE    CHRISTIANS. 

While  he  was  a  young  man,  he  preached  a  discourse 
from  the  text,  "  0  wheel,"*  in  the  presence  of  Elder 
Plainman,  a  clear-headed,  sound  theologian.  The 
sermon  was  one  of  Clever's  most  labored  and  tower- 
ing efforts.  He  was  exceedingly  anxious  to  know 
what  opinion  Elder  Plainman  had  formed  of  it ;  and 
he  repeatedly  intimated,  pretty  clearly,  that  he  en- 
tertained this  desire  \  but  the  judicious  Elder  con- 
tinued silent  on  the  subject.  At  length  the  young 
man's  curiosity  overcame  his  modesty,  and  he  said, 
"  Father  Plainman,  I  should  like  very  much  to  know 
what  opinion  you  entertain  of  my  sermon  on  the 
wheel."  The  Elder  was  a  man  of  few  words,  and  he 
briefly  replied,  "  It  was  too  deep  for  me,  brother 
Clever,  too  deep."  Young  Clever  was  chagrined  at 
the  implied  rebuke,  but  soon  forgot  it  amid  the  lav- 
ish encomiums  bestowed  on  him  by  some  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Soaring  church. 

I  could  frequently  learn  from  his  admirers  the  fa- 
vorite themes  of  his  ministry.  The  Origin  of  Evil 
was  to  him  a  prolific  subject  of  discourse.  On  this 
topic  he  poured  forth  sermon  after  sermon,  each,  in 
the  judgment  of  his  admirers,  exceeding  all  its  prede- 
cessors in  depth  and  power.  How  sin  could  originate 
in  a  perfect  being,  was  a  puzzle  to  many  until  they 
heard  Clever  preach.  On  this  point,  particularly,  he 
was  supposed  to  shed  new  and  satisfactory  light. 
Another  of  his  chosen  themes  was  the  Identity  of  the 

*  Ez.  x  :  13. 


SPECULATIVE   CHRISTIANS.  203 

Body  in  the  Resurrection.  On  this  subject  his  hear- 
ers received,  or  had  an  opportunity  of  receiving,  much 
light  on  human  physiology,  the  numerous  changes 
through  which  the  human  body  is  passing,  and  the 
thing  which  constitutes  bodily  identity.  Clever 
boasted  right  heartily,  no  doubt,  that  he  did  not  be- 
long to  that  plodding  class  of  preachers  whose  lot  it 
is  to  revolve  forever  within  the  limits  of  a  half-bushel ; 
and  many  of  his  hearers  were  delighted  that  tkcy  had 
a  pastor  capable  of  discussing  new  and  untried  themes. 
The  Harmony  of  the  Divine  Decrees  and  Human 
Free  Agency  was  another  subject  which  frequently 
called  forth  all  the  learning  and  powers  of  Clever. 
Many  years  ago  I  heard  him  preach  a  sermon  on  this 
subject,  which  so  deeply  imprinted  itself  on  my  mind 
that  I  now  distinctly  remember  its  outline.  The 
text  was — "  O  Lord,  revive  thy  work."*  It  was  de- 
livered during  the  progress  of  a  glorious  work  of 
grace.  Thus,  after  repeating  hi.*  text,  he  commenced 
— "  Here  is  a  work — which  supposes  a  workman — and 
thirdly,  a  rul«:  to  work  by.  Now  a  rule  has  two  ends, 
and  a  middle;  and  the  middle  is  equidistant  from 
both  ends."  The  plan  of  his  sermon  was  thus  marked 
ont :  He  proposed  to  begin  in  the  middle,  and  work 
toward  the  ends.  The  sermon  was  two  hours  in 
length,  delivered  with  great  earnestness,  and  was  by 
some  supposed  to  exceed  in  originality,  profundity, 
and  richness  any  ciWt  which  he  had  previously  made. 

'    ir.-.h.  Hi    :.' 


204  SPECULATIVE    CHRISTIANS. 

My  stock  of  Biblical  knowledge  was  very  meagre,  and 
my  mind  rather  averse  to  abstruse  speculations,  and 
unfortunately  I  could  not  appreciate  the  discourse. 
It  was  above,  or  below,  my  comprehension.  As  I 
came  out  of  the  house,  I  heard  a  member  of  the 
Soaring  church  say,  seemingly  in  raptures,  "  Well,  I 
never  understood  before  how  G-od  could  justly  con- 
demn a  man  for  doing  what  he  had  fore-ordained  that 
he  should  do." 

Elder  Clever  was  a  great  student  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse. By  repeated  readings,  and  careful  examina- 
tions, he  came,  so  he  and  his  admirers  thought,  to  un- 
derstand it  better  than  any  other  portion  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. For  a  time  his  ministry  was  entirely  confined 
to  its  exposition.  It  was  deemed  a  pity  by  many  that 
views  so  recondite,  so  .satisfactory,  and  so  useful, 
should  be  longer  concealed  from  the  world.  They 
were  well  understood  and  highly  appreciated  in  Uto- 
pia, and  especially  by  a  portion  of  the  Soaring 
church  ;  but  it  was  little  better  than  robbery  to  keep 
them  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  It  was  resolved 
that  they  should  be  written  and  printed ;  and  to  en- 
sure their  circulation,  the  pamphlet  containing  them 
was  gratuitously  distributed — Clever,  in  the  ardor  of 
his  zeal,  bearing  most  of  the  expense.  He  begins  his 
exposition  with  modesty.  If  he  is  wrong,  he  hopes 
some  wiser  head  will  set  him  right — a  pretty  difficult 
task  to  perform.  When  he  reaches  in  his  comments 
the  thirteenth  chapter  of  Revelation,  he  finds  a  clear 
prediction  of  the  suppression  of  the  United  States 


SPECULATIVE  CHRISTIANS.  205 

Bank  by  General  Jackson.  By  this  time  all  his  mod- 
esty has  vanished,  his  light  has  become  so  clear  that 
he  writes  as  one  possessing  authority,  and  having 
disclosed  the  meaning  of  the  Apocalyptic  symbol,  he 
abruptly  inquires — "  Reader,  can  you  doubt  it  ?  If 
you  do,  you  are  damned  as  certainly  as  there  is  a  God 
in  heaven."  But  other,  and  less  revolting  thoughts 
were  soon  to  take  possession  of  his  mind. 

The  truth  of  Phrenology  I  neither  affirm  nor  deny. 
The  science,  if  science  it  be,  not  coming  within  the 
scope  of  my  professional  studies,  I  have  not  found 
time  to  examine.  Elder  Clever  was  an  early  and  ar- 
dent convert  to  the  system.  His  belief  in  it  gave  a 
decided  turn  and  character  to  his  preaching.  One 
could  not  listen  to  his  discourse,  either  in  the  pulpit 
or  in  private,  without  clearly  perceiving  that  he  had 
studied  Phrenology.  All  his  estimates  of  human 
conduct,  all  his  prospects  of  success  in  the  ministry, 
and  all  his  schemes  of  usefulness,  were  based  upon,  or 
modified  by  it.  "  This,"  I  hoard  him  say,  "  is  the 
science."  But  a  fact,  better  than  mere  statements, 
will  illustrate  the  state  of  his  mind  His  wife,  un- 
fortunately, was  not  pious.  A  Christian  minister  was 
endeavoring  to  impress  on  her  mind  the  importance 
of  immediate  attention  to  her  salvation.  Elder  Clercr 
interposed.  ''  My  wife,"  said  he,"  has  Conscientious' 
nrss  and  Veneration  well  developed  ;  but  she  is  want- 
ing in  Idea/ity  and  Order  ;  and  in  .*pite  of  all  the  minis- 
ter's efforts  lie  was  forced  into  a  discussion  on  1'hrcno- 
logical  point:" ;  nud  the  poor  woman,  in  considering 


206  SPECULATIVE    CHRISTIANS. 

the  bumps  on  her  cranium,  forgot  that  she  had  a  soul 
to  be  saved  or  lost. 

Another  science,  of  still  sublimer  import,  as  Elder 
Clever  thought,  and  of  which  I  am  equally  ignorant 
and  uncertain,  soon  gained  and  absorbed  bis  attention. 
This  was  Mesmerism.  A  few  experiments  convinced 
him  of  its  truth  ;  and  he  quickly  swallowed  and  di- 
gested the  whole  system  :  the  reality  of  the  Mesmeric 
sleep,  sympathy  between  the  Mesmerizer  and  the  per- 
son Mesmerized ',  Phreno- Magnet ism,  Clairvoyance, 
and  all.  Great  and  important  results,  he  believed 
and  taught,  were  to  flow  from  the  progress  of  Mes- 
meric science.  By  it,  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
the  intervention  of  spiritual  agents  in  the  affairs  of 
mortals,  and  other  important  principles  were,  he  thought, 
irrefutably  established.  So  direct  and  important  was 
the  bearing  which  he  supposed  it  to  have  on  the  pro- 
gress of  Christianity,  that  he  lectured  on  it,  and  em- 
ployed his  pen  to  elucidate  and  confirm  it.  Indeed, 
he  considered  the  recently  developed  laws  of  Animal 
Magnetism  as  a  sort  of  new  revelation  to  mankind, 
in  harmony  with  the  Bible,  as  the  Old  and  New  Tes- 
taments are  in  harmony  with  each  other. 

But  it  is  time  I  should  notice  the  influence  of  Mr. 
Clever^s  ministry  in  the  Soaring  congregation.  To 
many  his  preaching  was  distasteful — chiefly  those  who, 
removing  from  other  places  into  Utopia,  had  their 
tastes,  in  regard  to  sermons,  formed  before  their  set- 
tlement there.  Some  were  not  profited  by  his  minis- 
trations —  they  could  scarcely  tell  why ;  for  they 


SPECULATIVE  CHRISTIANS.  207 

readily  admitted  that  be  was  a  learned,  profound,  and 
eloquent  divine ;  and  they  could  not  avoid  feeling 
some  pride  that  they  attended  on  the  ministry  of  so 
distinguished  an  orator.  Others,  again — and  they 
were  numerous  in  the  Soaring  church — were  delight- 
ed with  his  preaching.  "  He,"  said  they,  "  is  the 
man  for  us — we  are  fed  by  his  sermons — wo  never 
understood  the  mysteries  of  the  Gospel  until  we  heard 
him."  Elder  Plainnuin  was  invited  by  the  pastor, 
as  a  matter  of  courtesy,  to  deliver  a  sermon  to  the 
Soaring  church.  He  was  a  clear,  sound,  searching, 
practical  preacher ;  but  the  admirers  of  Clever  were 
greatly  scandalized  by  his  pointed  discourse.  Some 
evinced  their  disapprobation  by  shaking  their  heads — 
some  by  attempting  to  go  to  sleep — others  by  their 
listlessness — and  a  few  by  leaving  the  house.  Oue 
effect  of  Elder  Clever's  preaching  was  obvious.  Many 
of  his  hearers  became  too  wise  to  be  taught,  even  by 
him.  They  openly  boasted  of  the  depth  and  variety 
of  their  own  speculations.  Meanwhile,  as  no  conver- 
sions occurred,  and  few  additions  from  any  quarter 
were  made  to  the  church,  the  congregation  gradually 
dwindled.  Dissensions  arose,  and  matters  were  man- 
ifestly drawing  to  a  crisis.  Elder  Clever  launched 
into  new  speculations  in  Geology  and  the  Origin  of 
the  Human  Ilace,  which  not  proving  acceptable  to 
the  best-instructed  members  of  the  Soaring  church, 
it  only  remained  that  he  should  send  in  hi.s  resigna- 
tion. After  a  warm  discussion,  it  was  accepted  by  a 
ilwidod  majority  —  many,  howcvor.  nflirming  that 


208  SPECULATIVE     CHRISTIANS. 

Soaring  church  would  never  have  another  such  pas- 
tor ;  and,  pretty  certainly,  it  never  will. 

My  hearers  may  be  curious  to  know  what  has  be- 
come of  Elder  Clever — and  that  curiosity  I  will  en- 
deavor to  gratify.  He  removed  to  West  Utopia — 
boarded  with  an  amiable  family  attached  to  the  New 
Jerusalem  church — was  taken  sick — was  kindly  treat- 
ed by  the  family — regained  his  health — and  with  re- 
turning health,  a  new,  refreshing,  and  glorious  light, 
as  he  judged,  shone  on  his  mind  from  the  writings  of 
Baron  Emanuel  Swedenborg.  He  is  now  a  member 
and  teacher  of  the  New  Jerusalem  church.  All  the 
lights  of  Phrenology,  Mesmerism,  and  Geology  mingle 
their  rays  to  guide  him  through  the  mysteries  and 
labyrinths  of  Swedenborgianism.  He  is  perfectly  at 
home  in  expounding  the  Scriptures  in  their  natural, 
spiritual,  and  celestial  import ;  and  to  him  "  Divine 
Humanity"  is  a  theme  as  prolific  of  sermons,  as,  in 
former  years,  was  the  Origin  of  Evil.  He  now  be- 
lieves, honestly,  no  doubt,  that  all  the  world  is  in- 
sane, except  the  few  who  have  been  restored  to  their 
reason  by  the  great  apostle,  Swedenborg. 

Having,  brethren  and  hearers,  spent  so  much  time 
in  delineating  the  character  of  Elder  Clever,  I  must 
leave  you  to  make  an  application  of  this  subject  for 
yourselves — merely  remarking  that  it  is  far  better  to 
practice  what  we  know,  than  to  aspire  to  know  wh;>.t 
is  not  revealed ;  and  if  we  will  do  the  will  of  God, 
we  shall  know  of  the  doctrine,  by  whomsoever  taught, 
\rhether  it  be  of  God,  or  whether  it  be  of  men. 


LECTURE  XV. 

COVETOUS      CHRISTIANS. 

IT  may  seem  paradoxical  to  speak  of  Cpvetous 
Christians.  Can  a  Christian  be  covetous  ?  Does 
not  grace  subdue,  in  every  sincere  believer,  the  reign- 
ing power  of  selfishness  ?  Is  it  not  about  as  con- 
gruous to  speak  of  an  honest  thief,  or  a  temperate 
drunkard,  as  a  covetous  Christian  ?  In  what  degree 
a  Christian  may  be  covetous  I  will  not  undertake  to 
decide^;  but  one  thing  I  know,  some  church  members 
are  covetous.  This  class  is,  indeed,  quite  numerous, 
embracing  not  only  private  members,  but  also  "  bishops 
and  deacons."  No  evil  seems  to  be  more  rife,  and 
of  more  bunefhl  influence  in  the  churches,  than  cove- 
tousness.  I  cannot  better  illustrate  its  nature  and 
influence  than  by  portraying  the  character  of  a  church 
member  with  whom,  doubtless,  you  are  all  well  ac- 
quainted— Father  Gripe. 

In  his  early  years,  Mr.  Gripe  was  rather  dissipated 
— not  particularly  free  in  spending  his  money,  but 
still  not  deemed  by  his  associates  penurious.  In  sea- 
sons of  conviviality  he  would  freely  use  his  means  for 
the  indulgence  of  his  appetites,  and  the  entertainment 
of  his  friends ;  but  afterwards  he  would  bo  seriously 


210  COVETOUS  CHRISTIANS. 

grieved  at  this  extravagance.  When  he  was  about 
thirty  years  old,  in  a  great  revival  which  occurred  in 
his  neighborhood,  he  professed  conversion,  was  bap- 
tized, and  united  with  a  very  efficient  church.  He 
promised,  for  a  season,  to  be  a  useful  member.  His 
habits  were  quite  reformed — he  was  punctual  in  his 
attendance  on  religious  meetings — and  took  an  active 
part  in  church  discipline;  for  prayer-meetings,  how- 
ever, he  never  evinced  much  fondness. 

Mr.  Gripe  being  industrious,  and  a  good  manager, 
and  having  withal  an  economical  wife,  began  to  pros- 
per in  his  worldly  circumstances,  and  soon  became  in- 
dependent. Few  members  of  the  church  were  able  to 
give  so  much  to  its  support,  and  to  the  cause  of  Chris- 
tian benevolence,  as  he.  He  was  wealthy,  his  family 
inexpensive,  and  his  resources  constantly  accumula- 
ting. His  penuriousness,  which  was  suspected  by 
deacon  Careful,  from  the  commencement  of  his  reli- 
gious profession,  was  soon  made  apparent  to  all  the 
church. 

Under  the  faithful  labors  of  Elder  Titus,  the  church 
had  become  a  large,  strong  and  active  body,  and  find- 
ing their  place  of  worship  too  small  for  them,  and  in 
an  unfavorable  location,  they  entertained  the  purpose 
of  erecting  a  house,  in  a  more  central  position,  better 
suited  to  their  wants,  and  to  the  improved  taste  of  the 
community.  They  were  fully  able  to  accomplish  the 
object,  and  sound  policy  demanded  that  they  should 
do  so.  Brother  Gripe  set  himself  in  most  active  hos- 
tility to  the  scheme.  Pride  was  at  the  bottom  of  it ; 


COVETOUS    CHRISTIANS.  211 

and  God  would  certainly  frown  on  it  But  deacou 
Liberal  supported  the  measure,  promised  a  subscrip- 
tion of  five  hundred  dollars  to  begin  with,  and  the 
church  sustained  his  views  with  an  overwhelming  ma- 
jority. Brother  Gripe  found  himself  in  a  small 
minority,  composed  mostly  of  the  Saveall  family, 
with  whom  he  was  on  terms  of  intimacy.  The  new 
house  of  worship  was  commencod,  and  soon  completed 
— a  most  commodious  and  beautiful  house,  and  an  en- 
during monument  of  the  enterprise  and  liberality  of 
the  church.  But  as  the  work  was  commenced  con- 
trary to  the  wish  of  brother  Gripe,  he  could  not  rea- 
sonably be  expected,  so  he  said,  to  give  any  thing  to 
aid  it.  He  was  opposed  to  the  enterprise  on  princi- 
ple. He  maintained  that  a  house  of  religious  wor- 
ship should  be  of  the  simplest,  cheapest  kind.  One 
thing,  however,  struck  many  persons  as  being  a  lit- 
tle singular.  The  Gripe  mansion  was  one  of  the 
finest  in  the  neighborhood — large,  convenient  and 
costlv.  Some  persons  were  reminded  of  the  words  of 
Bishop  Lowth — "  It  argues  a  great  contempt  of  God 
and  religion,  when  men  think  no  cost  or  finery  too 
great  to  bestow  on  themselves,  and  the  meanest  ac- 
commodation good  enough  for  the  service  of  God." 

Mr.  Gripe  was  not  yet  out  of  difficulty.  On  enter- 
ing the  new  house,  the  church,  after  much  anxious 
consultation,  resolved  to  rent  the  pews.  This  mea- 
Hiire  was  more  distasteful  to  him  than  the  erection  of 
the  house.  In  favor  of  this  there  were  some  plausi- 
ble arguments ;  but  that,  in  his  estimation,  was  dis- 


212  COVETOUS    CHRISTIANS. 

criminating  between  the  rich  and  poor — selling  the  Gos- 
pel— and  fostering  a  spirit  of  pride  and  vanity.  But 
he  could  not  control  the  church  in  this  matter  ;  for  even 
his  friends,  the  Savealls,  deserted  him  on  this  point. 
He  was  sorely  chagrined,  and  after  some  delay,  he  re- 
solved, to  the  no  little  joy  of  some  of  his  brethren,  to 
change  his  church  relation. 

He  has  now  become  an  old  man,  and  is  generally 
known  as  Father  Gripe.  His  wealth  has  increased 
•with  his  years — he  is  now  very  rich — but  nothing 
seems  to  open  his  heart  or  subdue  his  selfishness.  He 
greatly  prefers  private  to  public  charities.  He  acts, 
according  to  his  own  account  of  the  matter,  on  the 
principle  of  not  letting  his  left  hand  know  what  his 
right  hand  does  j  and  truly  his  left  hand  is  kept  in 
profound  ignorance  on  the  subject.  But  as  the  church 
will  have  contributions  for  benevolent  and  religious 
purposes,  he  advocates  public  collections  in  preference 
to  individual  subscriptions,  that  all  may  have  an  op- 
portunity of  giving  something ;  though,  to  my  certain 
knowledge,  on  one  occasion,  when  a  collection  was 
taken  up  for  an  important  object,  at  the  close  of  an 
impressive  sermon  on  the  subject,  he  cast  into  the 
basket  a  single  half  dime.  Sometimes,  however,  a 
subscription  for  an  object  he  admits  to  be  good  is  pre- 
sented to  him.  It  would  be  amusing,  if  the  subject 
were  not  too  sad  for  amusement,  to  listen  to  the  ex- 
cuses by  which  he  endeavors  to  justify  himself  in  re- 
fusing to  subscribe.  The  times  are  very  hard — he 
has  debts  that  must  be  met — unusual  demands  have 


COVETOUS    CHRISTIANS.  213 

recently  been  made  on  his  liberality — he  dislikes  to 
put  his  hand  to  paper — prefers  paying  the  cash — has 
no  money  by  him  just  at  this  time— thinks  he  is  not 
now  able  to  do  anything — should  he  have  any  thing 
to  give  he  will  call  on  you. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  a  liberal  impulse  comes  over 
Father  Gripe  to  give,  not  of  what  he  now  possesses, 
but  of  what  he  hopes  to  obtain.  One  day  he  came 
to  me,  in  an  unusually  cheerful  mood,  and  said — "  I 
have  been  intending  to  do  more  for  the  cause  of  re- 
ligion than  I  have  heretofore  done."  I  was  glad  to 
hear  it,  for  I  knew  he  could  give  thousands  without 
feeling  the  loss.  "  I  have,"  he  continued,  "  a  scheme 
in  my  head,  and  if  you  can  aid  me  in  carrying  it 
out,  I  have  resolved  to  give  the  profits" — the  old 
man's  countenance  became  grave,  made  so,  no  doubt, 
by  the  very  solemn  promise  which  he  was  about  to 
utter,  '•  or,  at  least,  half  of  them" — and  Father  Gripe 
hesitated,  as  if  he  thought  the  amount  might  be  too 
great  to  bestow — "  at  any  rate,"  he  continued,  "  I 
will  give  some  portion  of  them  to  the  cause  of  mis- 
sions, if  I  can  afford  to  do  so."  The  old  man's 
generous  impulse  had  died  away  while  he  was  giving 
it  utterance. 

Father  Gripe  is  friendly  to  Christian  missions,  at 
least,  professes  to  be.  He  has  many  objections  to 
the  modes  of  conducting  them,  but  freely  admits  their 
importance,  and  his  obligation  to  contribute  to  their 
support.  On  one  occasion,  I  went  to  him  to  solicit 
a  contribution  to  aid  a  worthy  young  brother  to  ob- 


214  COVETOUS    CHRISTIANS. 

tain  an  education :  he  declined  giving  any  thing,  as  he 
was  of  opinion  that  young  men,  by  industry  and 
economy,  might  easily  obtain  an  education  them- 
selves. He  took  occasion,  however,  to  expatiate  on 
the  deep  interest  he  felt  in  the  Mission  cause,  and  his 
willingness  to  contribute  to  so  noble  an  object.  I  sus- 
pected, not  uncharitably,  that  his  zeal  in  this  noble 
cause  was  assumed  merely  to  conceal  his  parsimonious- 
ness  in  refusing  to  aid  the  young  friend  whose  case 
had  just  been  brought  to  his  notice.  I  determined 
that  I  would  catch  him  in  his  own  net.  Not  long 
after  this,  Elder  Gatherum,  Agent  of  the  Mission 
Board,  came  among  us,  and  I  resolved  to  take  him  to 
see  Father  Gripe.  After  giving  the  agent  some  in- 
structions how  to  proceed,  we  went  in  the  evening  to 
the  beautiful  Gripe  Mansion.  We  found  its  pro- 
prietor comfortably  seated  in  his  parlor,  and  alone. 
After  some  civilities  had  passed,  knowing  that  delay 
might  frustrate  our  purpose,  I  opened  the  object  of 
our  visit.  "  Father  Gripe,  I  heard  you  say  not  long 
since,  that  you  felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  Mission 
cause,  and  were  willing  to  contribute  to  its  support, 
and  as  brother  Gatherum  is  an  agent  for  that  cause, 
I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  bring  him  to  see  you, 
hoping  that  you  may  give  him  a  liberal  offering."  The 
agent,  who  well  understood  his  vocation,  took  up  the 
subject,  and  spoke  feelingly  of  the  perishing  condition 
of  the  heathen,  the  pressing  wants  of  our  Missiona- 
ries, the  embarrassments  of  the  Board,  and-  the  re- 
sponsibility of  Christians,  especially  such  as  God  had 


COVETOUS    CHRISTIANS.  215 

prospered  in  their  worldly  circumstances.  The  old 
Fattter  seemed  to  hear  very  little  of  what  was  said, 
bxit  to  be  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts.  "  I  am 
friendly  to  the  cause  of  missions,"  said  he,  "  but  I  am 
entirely  opposed  to  sending  money  out  of  the  country, 
while  we  have  so  many  heathen  at  home."  He 
breathed  more  freely,  and  seemed  more  composed 
after  this  remark.  The  conversation  was  continued 
on  this  subject  for  a  few  minutes.  Father  Gripe 
avowed  himself  ready  to  give  liberally  to  the  Home 
Mission  cause,  but  could  not  give  to  the  Foreign  Mis- 
sion. There  was  no  use  of  farther  discussion  on  that 
point.  "  It  is,"  said  the  agent,  "  most  providential, 
that  just  as  I  was  about  to  leave  home,  the  excellent 
Secretary  of  the  Domestic  Mission  Board  placed  a 
commission  in  iny  hands,  and  urged  me,  in  view  of 
their  peculiar  necessities,  to  collect  something  for  their 
treasury,  if  1  found  a  fit  opportunity  of  doing  so.  "  I 
have,"  said  the  old  brother,  "  peculiar  notions  on  this 
subject — I  would  rather  my  money  should  go  to  aid 
in  circulating  the  Bible,  than  the  support  of  Missiona- 
ries— t  know  that  is  God's  Word,  but  I  do  not  know 
that  Missionaries  are  good  men."  "  Very  well,"  re- 
plied the  agent,  "  the  Domestic  Board  has  a  Bible 
department,  and  your  contribution  can  take  that  di- 
rection." Fattier  Gripe  was  caught.  He  walked 
slowly  to  his  desk,  and,  after  turning  over  his  bills  for 
some  time,  he  returned  with  a  five  dollar  note.  "  You 
need  not,"  said  he,  "publish  my  name;  I  dislike 
ostentatious  charity."  It  was  a  niggardly  offering,  re- 


216  COVETOUS    CHRISTIANS. 

luctantly  bestowed.  He  ought  not  to  have  given  less 
than  fifty  dollars,  and  he  might  have  given  five  hun- 
dred more  easily  than  brother  Trueheart  gave  fifty,  and 
sister  Mercy  gave  one  dollar.  We  returned  felicita- 
ting ourselves  that  some  little  had  been  obtained, 
which,  though  it  could  not  bless  the  giver,  might  pro- 
mote a  good  cause ;  but,  on  inquiry,  it  was  found  that 
Father  Gripe's  note  was  on  a  bank  of  very  doubtful 
solvency,  and  it  had  to  be  passed  off  at  a  heavy  discount. 
Father  Gripe  is  constantly  bringing  trouble  on 
himself,  and  reproach  on  the  Redeemer's  cause,  by 
the  little,  selfish,  mean,  not  to  say,  iniquitous  tricks, 
to  which  he  resorts  to  obtain  or  save  money.  A  sin- 
gle case  will  illustrate.  He  wished  to  employ  a 
ditcher.  The  laborer,  a  very  poor  man,  demanded  so 
much  by  the  day,  or  so  much  by  the  month  for  his 
services.  It  seemed  cheaper  to  employ  him  by  the 
month ;  and  old  Mr.  Gripe  engaged  to  board  him, 
and  give  him  his  wages.  The  weather  proved  very 
inclement — very  little  labor  could  be  performed — and 
when  the  day  of  settlement  came  he  charged  the  poor 
laborer  high  board  for  the  inclement  days,  so  as 
nearly  to  balance  his  wages.  He  sued  the  extortioner, 
cast  him,  and  exposed  him  to  the  scorn  of  all  who 
knew  the  facts  of  the  case.  I  may  remark,  in  pass- 
ing, that  Father  Gi'ipe  has  pretty  generally  several 
lawsuits  on  hand,  and  the  uncertainty  of  their  issue 
is  a  great  hindrance,  so  he  thinks,  to  his  charities.  I 
do  not  deem  him  to  be  dishonest,  though  many  per- 
sons do.  In  matters  involving  his  own  interest,  how- 


COVETOUS    CHRISTIANS.  217 

ever,  his  judgment  is  liable  to  be  strangely  biased  by 
the  desire  of  gain. 

Father  Gripe  promises  to  make  a  liberal  provision 
for  the  cause  of  Christian  benevolence  in  his  will ;  but 
I  much  doubt  whether  he  will  do  so.  I  shall  be  de- 
ceived if  the  same  penuriousness  which  has  followed 
him  through  life  does  not  accompany  him  to  the  tomb. 
His  family  all  partake  of  his  spirit,  and  would  con- 
sider any  diversion  of  bis  property  to  the  cause  of 
benevolence,  a  serious  calamity  on  themselves.  They 
need  not  fear  it ;  for  the  old  man  is  now  very  much 
influenced  by  the  views  of  his  children.  He  has 
trained  them  to  his  own  habits,  and  found  them  sound 
in  the  main  point — taking  care  of  money. 

The  Bible  has  not,  I  think,  been  much  studied  by 
the  old  Father.  There  are,  however,  a  few-passages 
of  Scripture  exceedingly  precious  in  his  sight,  and 
very  frequently  on  his  lips.  "  We  command  you,  that 
if  any  would  not  work,  neither  should  he  eat."  "  If 
any  provide  not  for  his  own,  and  specially  for  those 
of  his  own  house,  he  hath  denied  the  faith,  and  is 
worse  than  an  infidel."  Another  passage  is  a  great 
favorite  with  brother  Gripe.  Whether  he  supposes  it 
to  be  a  portion  of  Holy  Writ,  I  do  not  know  :  judg- 
ing from  the  reverence  he  has  for  it,  the  frequency 
with  which  he  quotes  it,  and  the  potent  influence  it 
exerts  over  him,  I  should  conclude  he  does.  I  do  not 
know  in  what  verse  or  chapter  of  the  book  of  Diabo- 
lus  it  is  found,  but  it  runs  thus — "  Charity  must  begin 
at  home." 


21b  COVETOUS   CHRISTIANS. 

I  ought  to  say,  before  I  conclude,  that  this  aged 
brother  does  not  take  a  religious  paper.  He  was  once 
persuaded  to  do  so,  but  at  the  end  of  six  months,  he 
discontinued  it  in  disgust,  because  it  contained  so 
many  appeals  for  money.  I  learn,  however,  that  he 
frequently  borrows  the  paper,  to  read  interesting  arti- 
cles, and  particularly  to  look  over  the  prices  current, 
from  brother  Allgood. 

Father  Gripe  is  now  an  old  and  infirm  man,  totter- 
ing on  the  brink  of  the  grave.  His  days  are  almost 
numbered.  A  life  of  selfishness,  and  grasping  after 
the  world  is  about  to  be  terminated  by  the  settlement 
of  all  his  accounts  at  an  impartial  and  searching  bar. 
How  melancholy  to  follow  such  a  man  to  the  tomb  ! 
How  painful  to  preach  his  funeral !  How  useful  he 
might  have  been  to  the  church,  his  neighborhood,  and 
the  world  !  I  am  glad  that  I  am  not  to  be  his  judge. 
He  is  a  member  of  the  church,  and  has  some  influ- 
ence in  it ;  but  has  been,  if  I  can  rightly  judge,  a 
clog,  and  blot,  and  curse  to  it.  If  a  man  cannot 
serve  God  and  Mammon,  it  seems  quite  clear  that  he 
has  served  Mammon  and  not  God.  All  hope  of 
change  in  his  character  is  at  an  end.  "  Can  the 
Ethiopian  change  his  skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots  ? 
then  may"  those  "  do  good  who  are  accustomed  to  do 
evil."  Aged  men,  like  aged  trees,  strike  deeper  their 
roots,  and,  more  enamored,  cling  to  this  base  soil. 

But  I  must  close.  Should  I  be  called — as  I  am 
sure  I  shall  not  be — to  furnish  an  epitaph  for  the 


COVETOUS    CHRISTIANS.  219 

tomb  of  Father  Gripe,  the  words  of  the  poet  would 
strongly  impress  themselves  on  my  mind — 

"  The  man  may  breathe,  but  never  lives, 
Who  much  receives,  and  nothing  gives  : — 
Whom  none  can  love,  and  none  can  thank- 
Creation's  blot — creation's  blank." 


LECTURE 


RUM      DRINKING     CHRISTIANS. 

I  PROPOSE,  brethren  and  hearers,  to  call  your  atten- 
tion, this  evening,  to  a  pretty  numerous  class  of  Chris- 
tians —  Rum  Drinking  Christians.  I  use  the  word 
rum  in  a  generic  sense—  a  sense  in  which  it  is  some- 
times employed  in  Temperance  Lectures  —  to  denote 
all  kinds  of  intoxicating  drinks.  I  do  not  maintain 
that  drinking  rum,  as  a  beverage,  is,  per  se,  sinful; 
and,  much  less,  that  abstinence  from  its  use  is  the 
whole  of  that  Temperance  enjoined  in  the  Scriptures  : 
but  I  do  maintain,  that,  in  view  of  all  the  circum- 
stances, it  is  expedient  for  Christians  to  avoid  such 
use  of  it.  Its  use,  except  medicinally,  is  unnecessary, 
expensive,  insidious  in  its  influence,  fraught  with  peri- 
lous temptation,  and  frequently  ruinous.  It  has  filled 
the  land  with  vice,  misery  and  degradation  ;  and  mul- 
tiplied fearfully  widows,  orphans  and  paupers.  It 
will  hardly  be  pretended  by  any  considerate  man  that 
the  custom  of  Rum  Drinking  offers  advantages 
which  can  overbalance  these  appalling  evils;  but 
should  any  man  maintain  so  monstrous  an  opinion,  I 
do  not  consider  him  likely  to  be  profited  by  argu- 
ments. I  am  sorry  to  say  there  are  many  Rum 


RUM  DRINKING  CHRISTIANS.  221 

Drinking  Christians.  They  may  be  found  in  all 
churches,  orthodox  and  heterodox,  worldly  and  spir- 
itual; and  they  are  not  all  nominal,  but,  we  must 
charitably  suppose,  many  of  them  are  real  Christians. 
Some  Christians  drink  Rum,  because  they  deem 
it  conducive  to  their  health.  On  this  point  they  are 
probably  mistaken.  It  is  the  concurrent  opinion  of 
sober  physicians  that  strong  drink  is  not  useful,  but, 
in  many  cases,  positively  injurious  to  persons  in  sound 
health ;  and  my  own  observations,  made  on  no  very 
limited  scale,  confirm  this  opinion.  Some  Christians 
drink  Rum  from  the  power  of  habit.  Their  fathers 
drank  it  before  them.  They  have  been  accustomed 
from  their  childhood  to  drink  it.  The  habit  has 
grown  with  their  growth, and  strengthened  with  their 
strength ;  and  though  they  may  not  indulge  to  posi- 
tive inebriety,  yet  the  stimulant  has  become  necessary 
to  their  pleasant  exhilaration,  and  to  the  vigor  of  their 
bodily  or  mental  efforts.  Some  Christians  drink  Rum 
from  mere  inconsidcrateness.  They  have  experienced 
no  bad  effects  from  drinking  it,  and  have  seen  others 
drink  it  with  impunity  ;  and  they  have  been  placed  in 
circumstances  unfavorable  to  a  due  consideration  of 
the  insidious  danger  of  the  practice.  They  have  seen 
few  able  and  candid  works  on  the  Temperance  Refor- 
mation ;  or,  from  some  prejudice,  they  have  not 
deemed  them  worthy  of  notice.  Some  Christians 
drink  Rum  from  false  notions  of  independence.  They 
look  on  all  attempts,  however  kindly  and  prudently 
made,  to  restrain  their  indulgence,  as  an  attack  on 


222  RUM    DRINKING   CHRISTIANS. 

their  liberty ;  and  they  drink  to  make  it  apparent 
that  they  will  endure  no  encroachment  on  their  per- 
sonal freedom.  In  their  estimation,  Rum  Drinking  is 
one  of  the  privileges  purchased  for  them  by  the  blood 
of  Christ,  and  secured  to  them  by  the  Gospel  charter ; 
and  they  cannot  consent,  from  any  suggestion  of 
worldly  policy,  to  relinquish  it.  And  some  Christians 
drink  Rum  from  the  sincere  love  of  it.  It  is  plea- 
sant to  their  taste — its  stimulating  influence  on  their 
nerves  is  agreeable — it  augments  the  delights  of  their 
social  intercourse — and  it  imparts  vivacity  to  their 
conversation.  They  do  not,  indeed,  avow,  but  care- 
fully conceal,  even  from  themselves,  their  fondness 
for  it.  They  drink  it,  according  to  their  oft  repeated 
assertions,  not  because  they  have  an  appetite  for  it, 
but  on  account  of  its  tonic  or  prophylactic  qualities. 
It  is  no  part  of  my  purpose  to  denounce  Rum 
Drinking  Christians.  That  their  practice  is  fraught 
with  temptation  and  danger  to  themselves,  and  mis- 
chief to  society  :  even  they,  in  their  moments  of  dis- 
passionate reflection,  will  scarcely  venture  to  deny. 
To  class  them  with  drunkards ;  to  judge  them  by 
principles,  the  soundness  of  which  they  do  not  admit, 
and  to  speak  of  them  in  terms  of  derision  and  con- 
tempt, is  manifestly  unfair,  and  can  serve  no  purpose 
but  to  irritate,  provoke  opposition,  and  retard  the 
Temperance  Reform.  But,  surely,  if  Rum  Drinking 
Christians  can  be  induced  seriously  to  consider  the 
unprofitableness  of  their  indulgence,  the  insidious 
growth  of  the  drunken  appetite,  the  seductive  influ- 


RUM    DRDfKWG    CHRISTIANS.  223 

ence  of  social  habits  of  drinking,  and  the  number  of 
persons  who  are  ensnared  and  ruined  by  the  practice, 
they  will  sacrifice  a  momentary  gratification  on  the 
altar  of  prudence  and  usefulness. 

For  the  purpose  of  arousing  this  class  of  Christians, 
and  all  other  persons  who  may  hear  me,  to  profitable 
reflection  on  the  danger  of  Rum  Drinking,  I  shall  pre- 
sent a  brief  and  faithful  history  of  Tobias  Toper. 
His  father,  Deacon  Toper,  was  a  planter,  indepen- 
dent, living  in  comfort  and  good  style,  and  highly  re- 
spected as  an  honest,  hospitable  and  useful  man.  As 
a  member  of  the  church,  he  was  attentive  to  his  du- 
ties, liberal  iu  his  contributions,  and  generally 
esteemed.  Many  years  he  performed  the  duties  of 
the  deaconship  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  his  breth- 
ren. There  was  one  blemish  in  his  character — he 
drank  Rum,  and  furnished  it  for  his  family  and  guests 
to  drink,  and  encouraged  them  to  use  it.  In  justice, 
however,  some  things  must  be  said,  in  palliation  of 
his  course.  When  brother  Toper  became  a  member 
of  the  church,  and  for  some  years  afterwards,  the  cus- 
tom of  Rum  Drin/ang  was  universal  in  the  church,  as 
well  as  iu  general  society.  His  habits  were  formed 
before  the  principles  of  the  Temperance  Reform  were 
broached;  and  these  principles  appeared  to  him  to  be 
an  impeachment  of  the  good  and  venerable  men  who 
had  throughout  their  lives  used  Rum,  and  served 
Christ,  and  had  descended  to  the  tomb  with  unspotted 
reputations.  It  should  be  noted,  too,  that  though  a 
constant,  he  was  a  temperate  drinker,  and  used  all  his 


224  RUM  DRINKING  CHRISTIANS. 

official  influence  for  the  suppression  of  drunkenness 
within  the  precincts  of  the  church. 

Tobias  was  a  modest,  sprightly  and  promising  youth 
— was  well  educated,  of  industrious  habits,  and  cor- 
rect morals.  In  early  life  he  made  a  profession  of 
religion,  was  baptized,  and  received  into  the  fellowship 
of  the  church  of  which  his  father  was  a  deacon.  He 
was  deemed  a  valuable  accession  to  the  church,  and 
for  several  years  he  fulfilled  the  most  sanguine  expec- 
tation of  his  friends.  He  was  zealous,  active,  liberal, 
exemplary  and  useful;  in  short,  nothing  could  be  said 
in  his  disparagement,  except  that  he  was,  like  his 
venerable  father,  a  temperate  drinker  of  Rum. 

Mr.  Toper,  having  reached  maturity,  and  possess- 
ing popular  manners,  commenced  mercantile  opera- 
tions in  a  neighboring  city.  His  business  soon  seemed 
to  be  eminently  prosperous.  Patrons  and  friends 
were  multiplied,  his  trade  greatly  increased,  and  his 
profits  were  considered  satisfactory.  He  possessed  a 
fine  turn  for  mercantile  business,  was  honorable  and 
high-minded  in  his  dealings,  and  the  most  scrupulous 
Christian  could  find  no  fault  with  him,  except  that  he 
sold  Rum — and  for  this  traffic  he  could  plead  law,  and 
custom,  and,  even  the  necessity  of  supplying  the  arti- 
cle to  his  customers  for  medicinal  and  other  useful 
purposes,  and,  also,  drank  himself,  in  moderation,  of 
the  beverage,  by  way  of  encouraging  its  sale. 

After  a  few  years  of  almost  unexampled  success, 
Mr.  Toper  led  to  the  altar  one  of  the  noblest  speci- 
mens of  her  sex — young,  tall,  beautiful,  of  robust 


RUM  DRINKING    CHIUSTIANS.  225 

health,  the  most  amiable  temper,  and  the  most  polished 
manners,  and  to  crown  all,  most  sincerely  and  con- 
sistently pious,  and  a  member  of  the  same  communion 
with  himself.  Never  did  a  union  promise  a  fuller 
measure  of  domestic  bliss.  Congeniality,  success  in 
business,  increasing  wealth,  the  congratulations  of 
friends,  and  the  prospect  of  long  years  of  health, 
caused  their  cup  to  run  over.  A  large  and  well-fur- 
nished mansion,  with  a  flowing  hospitality,  made  their 
home  the  favorite  resort  of  the  gay,  the  cheerful,  and 
the  good  ;  nor  were  the  needy  and  wretched  sent  empty 
from  their  doors.  To  cement  their  union  and  increase 
their  joy,  in  a  few  years,  several  beautiful  and  pro- 
mising children,  finely  trained  by  a  judicious  and  at- 
tentive mother,  mingled,  with  all  their  innocent  and 
winning  sports,  in  the  domestic  circle.  The  sun  did 
not  shine  on  a  lovelier  or  happier  family.  Only  one 
small  cloud  darkened  the  firmament  of  their  noon- 
tide bliss — Mr.  Toper  drank  Rum — temperately,  pru- 
dently, to  be  sure,  but  habitually.  His  wife,  as  wise 
as  she  was  good,  foresaw  the  danger,  and  kindly  dis- 
closed to  her  husband  how  much  she  would  be  grati- 
fied if  he  would  unite  with  the  Temperance  Society. 
She  plead  the  Total  Abstinence  cause  as  only  a  fond 
wife,  with  secret  forebodings  of  the  ruin  of  herself 
and  her  dependent  children  could  do;  nor  was  her 
plea  without  effect.  Mr.  Toper,  who  was  doatingly 
fond  of  his  angel  wife,  was  greatly  moved.  He  pro- 
mised to  take  the  matter  under  serious  consideration. 
There  were,  however,  two  obstacles  to  his  complying 


226  RUM    DRINKING  CHRISTIANS. 

with  her  request.  In  the  first  place,  the  sale  of  Rum 
he  found  very  profitable ;  and  it  was  difficult  for 
him  to  relinquish  this  source  of  gain.  This  obstacle 
might  have  been  obviated,  had  there  not  been  a  more 
serious  one  in  the  way.  Deacon  Toper,  who  retained 
great  influence  over  his  son,  Tobias,  was  hostile  to  the 
Temperance  cause.  In  his  judgment  the  Total  Ab- 
stinence pledge  was  an  infringement  of  Christian 
liberty,  and  a  confession  of  incapacity  for  self-govern- 
ment. The  authority  of  the  father  prevailed  over  the 
persuasion  of  the  spouse;  and  Tobias  Toper  quieted 
the  apprehension  of  his  excellent  wife  by  the  most 
solemn  assurances  of  his  intentions  to  be  prudent,  and 
of  his  perfect  self-control. 

Many  men,  virtuous  in  prosperity,  become  reckless 
and  vicious  in  adversity.  Had  Mr.  Toper  not  been 
overtaken  by  a  reverse  of  fortune,  his  history  might 
have  been  far  different  from  that  which  I  am  called 
to  relate.  Suddenly,  and  to  the  amazement  of  all 
his  friends,  he  failed  iu  business;  and  his  failure  was 
total  and  overwhelming.  In  his  extremity,  he  t  j 
sorted,  or  was  supposed  to  have  resorted  to  dishonorable 
means  to  save  a  portion  of  his  property,  and  lost  his 
character.  Owing  to  some  liability  assumed  for  him, 
and  which  he  was  unable  to  meet,  Deacon  Toper  be- 
came utterly  alienated  from  his  dishonored  son,  and 
visited  his  displeasure  not  only  on  him,  but  on  his  ex- 
cellent wife  and  unoffending  children.  How  melan- 
choly to  contemplate  the  change  which  in  a  few  months 
came  over  this  happy  family.  Their  spacious,  hospi- 


RTTM  DRINKING  CHRISTIANS.  227 

table  home,  their  fine  furniture,  their  respectable  equL 
page,  and  all  their  means  of  comfort  and  sustenance, 
had  passed  into  other  hands ;  and  with  their  property 
and  hospitality  had  passed  away  most  of  their  friends. 
The  wife  bore  the  shock  with  Christian  fortitude,  and 
had  her  husband  only  possessed  her  resolution  and  en- 
terprise, they  would  have  risen  above  all  their  calami- 
ties. But,  alas  !  poor  Toper  had  formed  a  fatal  habit, 
whose  disastrous  effects  now  began  to  appear.  He 
sought  the  alleviation  of  his  distress  in  Rum  Drinking 
— became  intemperate — was  soon  a  confirmed  sot — 
and  a  wretched,  ragged  loafer.  We  have  known  many 
to  fall  by  Rum  Drinking,  but  never  one  to  fall  so  sud- 
denly, rapidly  and  profoundly  as  Tobias  Toper.  When 
his  pecuniary  embarrassments  overtook  him  he  was  of 
high  standing  in  society,  a  respected  member  of  a 
church,  and  of  irreproachable  character — in  less  than 
two  years  he  had  passed  through  every  stage  of  in- 
temperance to  the  lowest  point  of  degradation  to  which 
that  hateful  vice  ever  sinks  its  hapless  victims.  Aban- 
doning all  occupation,  lie  cast  his  lovely  wife,  and 
sweet,  sprightly  children  on  the  care  of  generous  rela- 
tives, illy  able  to  support  them.  He  became  a  vaga- 
bond, and  sponge  on  his  acquaintances.  I  first  saw 
him  in  a  barber's  shop,  begging  some  one,  and  beg- 
ging in  vain,  to  lend  him  a  dollar  to  pay  a  debt,  which, 
he  said,  he  had  promised  to  pay  that  day.  After  ob- 
taining money  of  all  his  acquaintances,  who  would 
trust  him,  or,  rather,  were  willing  to  make  him  a  do- 
nation, he,  by  sheer  importunity,  borrowed  from  oat- 


228  RUM    DRINKING  CHRISTIANS. 

lers,  draymen,  and  hotel  waiters,  under  fair  promisea 
of  speedy  payment,  small  sums,  frequently  not  exceed- 
ing a  dime,  which  were  spent  in  the  lowest  and  mean- 
est dram-shops  for  Rum,  to  satiate,  or  rather  increase, 
his  intemperate  and  burning  appetite.  But  in  his 
deepest  wretchedness  he  never  abandoned  his  religious 
hope.  f  Excluded  from  the  church,  scorned  of  men, 
and  hopelessly  enslaved  by  vice,  he  would  talk  to  his 
Rum-house  companions  of  his  experience,  consolations, 
and  prospects  of  heavenly  felicity. 

When  he  was  free  from  the  maddening  influence  of 
Rum,  Toper  almost  adored  his  lovely  and  devoted 
wife.  But  drunkenness  gradually  changed  him  from 
an  amiable  and  tender  husband  to  an  unfeeling  and 
brutal  tyrant.  When  drunk,  the  woman  whom  he  had 
sworn  to  love,  and  who  loved  him  with  a  devotion 
bordering  on  idolatry,  was  the  object  of  his  most  im- 
placable hatred,  and  most  unfeeling  abuse  ;  but  when 
sober,  he  would  atone  for  his  unkindness  by  ingenuous 
confessions,  bitter  tears,  and  promises  of  reformation. 
On  one  occasion,  his  wife  was  compelled  to  seek  pro- 
tection from  his  drunken  rage  of  a  brother-in-law — a 
protection  which  was  promptly  afforded.  Toper  swore 
vengeance  against  his  unoffending  relative.  It  was  not 
long  before  he  found  an  opportunity  of  indulging  his 
vindictive  spirit.  He  armed  himself,  went  to  the 
house  of  his  brother-in-law,  where  his  trembling  wife 
had  found  a  refuge,  called  him  out,  attacked  him,  and 
inflicted  on  him  a  serious  wound.  At  first,  it  was  not 
deemed  dangerous ;  but  after  a  while,  aggravated  by 


RUM   DRINKING    CHRISTIANS.  229 

an  unfortunate  constitutional  tendency,  it  became 
alarming,  and  finally  proved  fatal.  Poor  Toper  was 
arrested,  tried,  and  condemned  to  three  years'  con- 
finement in  the  Penitentiary.  He  would  have  been 
sentenced  to  be  hung,  had  it  not  appeared  probable 
from  the  evidence  that  it  was  not  his  purpose  to  com- 
mit murder,  and  that  the  wounded  man  might  have 
recovered  under  more  skillful  medical  treatment.  For 
three  long  years,  Toper,  once  so  gay,  so  prosperous, 
and  so  beloved,  was  the  inmate  of  the  State  Prison, 
the  companion  of  felons,  and  doomed  to  hard  toil  and 
fare.  When  his  term  of  servitude  expired,  it  was 
hoped  that  long  continued  abstinence  had  subdued  his 
appetite  for  Rum.  No  entreaties,  nor  offers  of  friend- 
ship could  induce  his  wife  to  abandon  him.  She 
clung  to  him  with  a  tenacity  which  seemed  to  be  in- 
creased by  his  degradation  and  wretchedness.  After 
his  release  from  the  Penitentiary,  she  received  him 
into  the  little  room  where,  by  her  industry  and  good 
management,  she  had  maintained  herself  and  children 
in  comfort.  By  every  act  which  love  could  prompt, 
or  ingenuity  devise,  she  sought  to  win  him  back  to  the 
path  of  sobriety,  and  soothe  him  in  his  infamy.  But 
all  her  efforts  were  vain.  The  drunken  appetite  re- 
turned with  his  freedom.  In  a  few  weeks,  his  habits 
of  inebriation  and  loafing  were  fully  reestablished. 
He  was  soon  seen  at  his  old  haunts  of  dissipation, 
mingling  with  his  corrupt  associates,  and  resorting 
to  the  same  detestable  means  of  indulging  his  appe- 
tite for  Rum. 


230  RUM  DRINKING    CHRISTIANS. 

It  seems  to  be  a  wise  and  beneficent  arrangement 
of  Providence,  that  a  drunkard's  life  shall  be  short. 
Wretched  himself,  with  little  prospect  of  his  reforma- 
tion, and  a  burden  and  curse  to  his  friends,  the  early 
close  of  his  probation  is  a  mercy.  It  was  not  proba- 
ble that  such  a  life  as  that  of  Tobias  Toper  could  be 
long  preserved.  Thinly  clad,  exposed  to  the  inclement 
night  air,  of  irregular  habits,  and  with  a  stomach  con- 
stantly distended  and  burning  with  fire  water,  his  end 
could  not  be  distant.  He  was  suddenly  seized  with 
delirium  tremens.  His  sufferings  were  intense,  be- 
yond all  description.  He  fancied  that  his  children, 
for  whom,  in  his  degradation,  he  cherished  a  warm  af- 
fection, were  burning  up  before  his  eyes.  The  scene 
was  pictured,  before  his  maniac  mind,  with  all  the 
vividness  of  reality.  He  saw,  and  to  his  agonized 
wife,  and  a  few  attendants  at  his  dying  bed,  he  would 
pathetically  describe  the  kindling  flame,  the  peril  of 
his  children,  their  tortures,  as  the  advancing  fire  would 
consume  member  after  member  of  their  bodies,  and 
the  utter  consumption  of  the  helpless  innocents ;  and 
his  anguish  wa's  expressed  by  groans,  and  screams,  and 
loud  laments  One  frightful  illusion  passed  only  to 
make  way  for  another  equally  frightful  and  agonizing. 
After  a  few  days  of  these  dreadful  sufferings,  the  poor 
maniac  died — died  without  a  lucid  interval,  or  any 
mitigation  of  his  anguish. 

I  was  called  to  attend  his  funeral.  Never  had  I 
received  so  deep  an  impression  of  the  evils  of  drunk- 


RUM   DRINKING    CHRISTIANS.  231 

enness,  and  the  danger  of  Rum  Drinking,  as  while 
gazing  on  the  lifeless  body  of  the  inebriate,  Tobias 
Toper.  I  thought  of  what  he  was — what,  but  for  a 
father's  example  and  influence,  he  might  have  been — 
to  what  disgrace  and  misery  Rum  Drinking  had 
brought  him — what  a  fearful  death  he  had  died — and 
my  soul  shuddered  while  I  attempted  to  trace  his 
flight  to  the  eternal  world.  There  sat  his  faithful 
wife,  bathed  in  tears,  broken-hearted,  utterly  crushed 
by  a  sense  of  her  misfortunes,  and  her  unmerited  dis- 
grace, and  yet  humbly  confiding  in  her  heavenly  Father. 
The  little  children,  too  young  to  understand  their 
loss  or  disgrace,  clustered  about  their  fond  mother, 
wondering  why  she  wept.  It  was  a  heart-touching 
scene,  and  full  of  instruction.  I  wished  that  every 
drunkard,  every  young  man  who  uses  intoxicating 
drinks,  and  every  Rum  Drinking  Christian  could 
gaze  upon  it.  But  my  lips  were  sealed  by  a  regard  to 
the  feelings  of  the  living.  I  spake  of  the  mercy  of 
God,  the  fullness  of  Christ,  the  sufficiency  of  grace, 
and  the  blessedness  of  the  righteous;  but  I  thought 
of  a  drunkard's  life — a  drunkard's  death — a  drunk- 
ard's end — and  the  words  of  the  apostle  seemed  to 
sound  in  my  ears — "  Neither  shall  drunkards  inherit 
the  kingdom  of  Heaven." 

The  body  of  the  unfortunate  Toper  was  followed 
to  its  final  resting  place  by  a  few  friends  of  the  family 
who  remembered  his  former  respectability.  It  was 
laid  in  a  drunkard's  grave.  Let  no  stone  mark  tho 


232  RUM    DRINKING    CHRISTIANS. 

spot,  so  that  when  his  children  grow  up  they  may  find 
no  memorial  of  a  father's  disgrace. 

I  had  intended  to  close  with  some  remarks,  but  I 
have  barely  time  to  say,  that,  all  things  considered,  it 
is  wiser,  better,  safer  for  all  men,  and  especially  for 
Christians,  to  abstain  from  Rum  Drinking. 


LECTURE  XVII. 

INCONSISTENT    CHRISTIANS. 

A  CONSISTENT  Christian  is  one  whose  principles, 
professions,  and  conduct  are  in  harmony.  His  life 
is  pure,  peaceable,  beneficent,  devout,  and  zealous,  as 
"  becometh  the  gospel  of  Christ."  You  may  always 
find  him  in  the  right  place,  in  the  right  company,  in 
the  right  employment,  and  tending  in  the  right  direc- 
tion. He  may  err  in  judgment,  or  fail  of  success,  but 
his  purposes  are  good.  His  spirit,  conversation,  and 
works  bear  concurrent  and  lucid  testimony  to  the  sin- 
cerity of  his  Christian  profession,  and  the  stability  of 
his  religious  principles.  Place  him  in  circumstances 
of  temptation  and  of  peril,  and  you  may  venture  to 
predict  that  his  conduct  will  bring  no  reproach  on  the 
Master  whom  he  serves.  What  beautiful  specimens 
of  consistency  we  have  in  the  lives  of  Joseph,  Daniel, 
and  Paul.  In  prosperity  or  in  adversity,  in  successes 
or  in  dangers,  in  palaces  or  in  prisons,  in  labors  or  in 
sufferings,  in  public  or  in  private,  their  piety  shone 
with  e<(ual  radiance.  Perfect  consistency  cannot  bo 
found  among  mortals.  It  would  imply  entire  freedom 
from  sin  and  error ;  and  this  exemption  cannot  be  af- 
firmed of  Christians,  even  the  most  matured.  But  to 


234  INCONSISTENT    CHRISTIANS. 

a  high  degree  of  consistency  all  may,  and   many  do, 
attain. 

My  hearers  will  readily  perceive  that  an  Inconsis- 
tent Christian  is  one  who  does  not  possess,  or  pos- 
sesses in  a  very  imperfect  measure,  the  character 
which  I  have  described.  His  conduct  is  not  in  uni- 
son with  his  professions.  He  professes  to  love  Christ 
supremely,  but  does  not  keep  his  commandments.  He 
proclaims  that  he  is  dead  to  the  world,  but  nobody 
would  thus  infer  from  the  earnestness  with  which  he 
pursues  it,  or  the  zest  with  which  he  enjoys  it.  He 
is  a  member  of  a  Christian  church  ;  but  if  you  would 
learn  the  fact,  you  must  examine,  not  his  conversa- 
tion or  conduct,  but  the  church  records.  Inconsis- 
tent Christians  are  a  numerous  class.  They  abound 
in  all  communions.  No  Christians,  indeed,  are  wholly 
exempt  from  the  evil.  But  I  propose  in  this  Lec- 
ture to  treat  of  those  marked  and  flagrant  instances 
of  it  which  are  a  stumbling  block  to  the  wicked,  a 
grief  to  the  godly,  and  a  reproach  to  Christianity. 
Such  cases  are  constantly  attracting  our  notice.  As 
no  one  Christian  could  possibly  exemplify  in  his  life 
every  kind  of  inconsistency  found  in  the  churches,  I 
will  select  a  number  of  individuals,  each  representing 
a  particular  phase  of  the  evil. 

Brother  Severed  a  minister  of  the  gospel — an  em- 
inent revivalist.  I  ouce  had  the  pleasure  of  attend- 
ing a  series  of  meetings  with  him.  His  preaching  was 
plain,  searching,  and  faithful.  His  delineations  of 
vice  and  its  consequences  were  truthful,  and  in  some 


INCONSISTENT  CHRISTIANS.  235 

cases  absolutely  horrifying.  His  views  ot  moral  ob- 
ligation were  all  extreme.  Every  species  of  sin  came 
in  for  a  full  share  of  his  reproof  and  denunciation. 
He  seemed  to  have  a  mission  to  probe  every  heart, 
and  awaken  every  conscience.  The  wicked  were 
afraid  to  hear  his  sermons,  lest  their  sins — oven  their 
most  secret  sins — should  be  placed  in  startling  array 
before  their  eyes.  How  much  was  I  surprised  to 
learn,  as  I  afterwards  did,  from  a  most  trust-worthy 
source,  that  he  was  at  this  very  time  dealing  in  lottery 
tickets.  In  some  other  Christians  such  conduct 
would  not  have  seemed  so  strange.  They  are  loose 
casuists.  But  that  Elder  Severe,  whose  views  of  mo- 
rality were  so  extreme  and  inflexible,  should  have  en- 
gaged in  a  traffic  condemned  by  all  intelligent  and 
earnest  Christians,  was  glaringly  inconsistent.  He 
felt  it  to  be  so ;  for  he  carefully  concealed  his  con- 
duct from  his  most  intimate  Christian  friends.  I  was 
grieved  at  his  course,  and  never  since  have  had  full 
confidence  in  his  sincerity. 

Brother  Greatman  is,  in  many%  respects,  the  most 
prominent  member  of  the  church  to  which  he  belongs. 
He  is  rich,  intelligent,  occupies  a  high  social  position, 
and  is  much  respected  by  the.  community.  He  pos- 
sesses some  fine  qualities.  He  is  liouorable,  liberal, 
hospitable,  and  of  conciliating  manners.  He  ought 
to  be,  and  might  be,  but  he  is  not,  the  most  useful 
member  of  the  church.  Mr.  Greatnum  is  an  aspirant 
after  political  distinction.  He  attends  political  meet- 
ings, and  makes  speeches  which  are  complimented  fur 


236  INCONSISTENT  CHRISTIANS. 

their  logic,  eloquence,  and  fervor.  And  yet  no  en- 
treaty can  induce  him  to  teach  a  class  in  a  Sunday- 
school,  offer  prayer  in  a  social  meeting,  or  make  an 
address  to  promote  any  religious  or  benevolent  ob- 
ject. Now  this  is  inconsistent ;  and  all  the  truth 
must  be  told.  When  he  was  a  young  man,  less  expe- 
rienced and  less  popular  than  he  now  is,  he  took  an 
active  and  most  acceptable  part  in  social  prayer  meet- 
ings and  Sunday-schools ;  but  as  he  has  grown  older, 
and  his  knowledge  and  influence  have  increased,  his 
efficiency  in  the  cause  of  Christ  has  diminished.  Like 
Peter,  on  the  night  of  his  fall,  he  follows  Christ  "  afar 
off."  I  fear  that  the  resemblance  between  him  and 
Peter  may  proceed  another  step  ;  and  that  in  some  un- 
guarded moment,  as  did  that  apostle,  he  may  deny  his 
Lord.  And,  alas  !  many  fall  like  Peter,  who  do  not, 
like  Peter,  weep. 

Brother  Fickly  was  for  many  years  an  esteemed, 
active,  and  useful  member  of  a  country  church.  In- 
terest or  inclination  led  him  to  sell  his  farm,  and  re- 
move to  the  city.  Whether  he  sought,  as  he  should 
have  done,  in  the  change  to  promote  the  glory  of  God, 
I  know  not.  His  leaving  the  country  was  deeply  la- 
mented by  his  brethren.  They  felt  that  the  cause  of 
Christ  was  sustaining  a  severe  loss,  but  comforted 
themselves  with  the  persuasion  that  their  loss  would 
be  the  gain  of  the  city  churches.  I  was  assured  by 
the  excellent  pastor  of  brother  Fickly  that  we  would 
find  him  a  valuable  acquisition  to  our  ranks.  We 
formed  high  expectations  of  his  usefulness,  and  were 


INCONSISTENT  CHRISTIANS.  237 

prepared  to  give  him  a  hearty  welcome.  He  came, 
bringing  with  him  a  letter  of  dismission  for  himself 
and  several  members  of  his  family.  Month  after 
month  passed  away,  and  he  failed  to  hand  his  certifi- 
cate of  dismission  to  the  church.  He  attended  some- 
times one  place  of  worship,  and  sometimes  another, 
but  was  never  seen  in  a  Sunday-school  or  a  prayer 
meeting.  When  affectionately  urged  to  unite  with  a 
church,  he  had  a  long  list  of  complaints  and  objections 
to  recite.  The  brethren  are  distant  in  their  manners  ; 
the  worship  is  formal ;  there  is  a  great  deal  of  pride 
in  the  congregation  ;  things  are  not  like  they  were  in 
the  country.  Now,  suppose  all  these  things  be  ad- 
mitted, what  then  ?  If  the  brethren  are  distant  to- 
ward him,  is  not  his  course  adapted  to  repel  their 
confidence  and  affection  ?  If  the  worship  is  formal, 
is  he  doing  aught  to  increase  its  fervency  ?  If  there 
is  much  pride  in  the  church,  is  he  setting  them  an 
example  of  humility  ?  But  things  are  not  like  they 
were  in  the  country.  Be  it  so.  How  could  it  be 
otherwise  ?  In  some  respects  city  churches  differ, 
and  must  differ,  from  country  churches.  But  the 
same  gospel  is  preached,  the  same  God  is  worshipped, 
the  same  ordinances  are  observed,  and  the  same  hopes 
are  cherished  in  the  churches  of  the  city  and  the  country. 
Years  have  passed  away  since  brother  Fickly  took  up 
his  abode  in  the  city,  and  he  still  retains,  if  he  has  not 
lost,  his  certificate  of  dismission.  He  is  a  wandering 
sheep — an  out-side  Christian — lost  to  the  denomina- 
tion— lost  to  the  cause  of  Christ — his  religious  enjoy- 
ment is  lost ;  and  I  fear  his  soul  will  be  finally  lost. 


5438  INCONSISTENT  CHRISTIANS. 

I  must  now  notice  the   inconsistency  of  brother 
Sleeper.     He  is  fond  of  revivals,  and   deems  himself 
peculiarly  fitted  to  labor  in  them.     I  once  heard  him 
gay,  "  Other  men  may  live  without  revivals,  but  I 
never  can."     I  thought  the  remark  savored  of  pre- 
sumption.    I  knew  that  many  ministers  of  earnest 
piety,  and  faithful,  who  would  have  rejoiced  greatly 
in  the  revival  of  the  Lord's  work,  had  been  doomed 
to  lament  the  prevalence  of  sin  and  infidelity  in  the 
world,  and  of  coldness  and  apathy  in  the  churches.   Our 
Lord  himself  did  not  always,  nor  chiefly,  labor  in  revi- 
vals.    And  who  was  brother  Sleeper,  that  he  should 
certainly  be  exempt   from    the    discouragements  to 
which  his  brethren  and  his  Master  had  been  subject  ? 
In  revivals,  he  was  a  most  active   Christian.      He 
seemed  never  to  tire  in  attending  meetings,  praying, 
singing,  conversing  with  inquirers,  and  visiting  from 
house  to  house.     Were  you  to  judge  of  his  piety  sole- 
ly from  his  labors  in  such  seasons,  you  would  pro- 
nounce him  the  most  exemplary  and  efficient  of  Chris- 
tians.    But  to  form  a  right  estimate  of  his  character, 
you  must  see  him  when  iniquity  abounds,   and  the 
love  of  many  waxes  cold.     His  piety  has  now  so  sad- 
ly degenerated  that  you  can  scarcely  recognize  him. 
His  zeal  has  vanished  "  like  the  early  cloud  or  morn- 
ing dew."     Now  he  is  frequently  absent  from  the 
house  of  worship  on  Lord's-day  morning,  is  rarely 
present  at  the  weekly  evening  lecture,  and  is  never 
seen  in  the  prayer  meeting.     He  thinks  his  pastor  a 
very  cold  and  profitless  preacher.     He  wishes  to  hear 


INCONSISTENT  CHRISTIANS.  239 

stirring,  melting  sermons  all  the  time.  He  has  no 
relish  for  doctrinal  preaching.  His  soul  loathes  it, 
as  the  Israelites  loathed  the  manna  in  the  desert. 
He  can  live  only  on  condiments ;  and  as  he  cannot 
obtain  a  supply  of  these,  he  pines,  and  is  ready  to 
perish.  But  should  another  revival  take  place,  he 
will  renew  his  strength,  mount  up  with  wings  as  an 
eagle ;  he  will  run,  and  not  be  weary,  and  he  will 
walk,  and  not  faint,  until  the  excitement  subsides. 

Now,  this  course  of  brother  Sleeper  is  grossly  and 
shamefully  inconsistent.  True  piety  is  steady — not 
fitful.  A  time  of  revival  may  call  for  labors,  pecu- 
liar in  kind,  and  more  abundant  in  measure;  but 
every  season  has  its  appropriate  responsibilities  and 
duties.  Christ  is  always  lovely,  his  service  is  alwaya 
pleasant,  souls  are  always  precious,  sin  is  always  hate- 
ful, heaven  and  hell  are  always  solemn  realities,  and 
death  is  always  approaching.  How  timely,  then,  the 
apostolic  exhortation — "  Therefore  let  us  not  sleep, 
as  do  others ;  but  let  us  watch  and  be  sober."* 

Brother  Fairword  is  an  eminent  preacher  of  the 
gospel — a  clear,  earnest,  practical  preacher.  For  im- 
pressive declamation  he  is  almost  unrivalled.  He  has 
gathered,  as  might  be  expected,  a  large  and  respecta- 
ble congregation.  He  is  a  decided  and  earnest  advo- 
cate of  what  are  usually  termed  the  benevolent  opera- 
tions of  the  day.  Certainly,  few  ministers  can  plead 
the  cause  of  Christian  benevolence  more  forcibly  than 

*  1  Thcss.  v  :  6 


240  INCONSISTENT  CHRISTIANS. 

he  does.     He  is  sent  for,  far  and  near,  to  de.  iver  ser- 
mons  and  addresses  before  Bible,  Mission,  and  kin- 
dred Associations.     These  invitations  he  usually  ac- 
cepts, and  pleads  the  cause   of   Christian  liberality 
with  an  eloquence,  force,  and  pathos  which  not  mere- 
ly command  respect,  but  excite  universal  admiration. 
Now  this  is  very  commendable.     But  mark  the  incon- 
sistency of  the  man !      God  has  greatly  prospered 
him  in  his  temporal  interests.     He  is  rich,  and  pos- 
sessing a  good  judgment,  and  ready  tact  in  the  man- 
agement of  his  estate,  he  is  constantly  growing  richer. 
His  church,  too,  makes  him  a  reasonable  compensa- 
tion for  his  pastoral  labors.     And  yet,  from  all  that 
I  can  learn,  he  gives  nothing,  or  very  little,  to  pro- 
mote the  cause  of  Christ.     He  may  suppose  that  he 
performs  his  part  by  pleading  the  claims  of  Christian 
benevolence ;  but  in  this  he  errs.     It  is  required  of 
every  man  according  to  that  he  hath.     Brother  Fair- 
word  has  ability  to  present  and  enforce  the  claims  of 
charity ;  and  this  ability  he  properly  consecrates  to 
Christ.     But  the  Elder  has  more :  he  has  wealth.     Is 
he  not  bound  to  devote  this  also  to  Christ  ?    Because 
he  usefully  employs  one  talent,  is  he  at  liberty  to 
hide  another  in  the  earth  ?     Will  not  Christ  hold  him 
responsible  for  the  use  which  he   makes  of  both  tal- 
ents ?     Besides,  how  much  would  the  weight  and  in- 
fluence of  his  eloquent  addresses  be  increased  if  they 
were  enforced  by  the  example  of  his  own  noble  liberal- 
ity ?     How  can  he  hope  to  convince  his  hearers  of  his 
sincerity  when  they  see  such  a  glaring  inconsistency 


INCONSISTENT   CHRISTIANS.  241 

between  his  words  and  his  deeds  ?  The  discrepancy 
is  noticed  more  than  he  is  aware  of ;  and  it  is  surely 
having  its  effect.  The  meagre  contributions  made  by 
the  members  of  the  church  under  his  pastorate  pro- 
claim too  clearly  that  his  example  is  exerting  a  more 
potent  influence  than  his  eloquent  declamation. 

Sister  Showey  is  in  very  comfortable  worldly  cir- 
cumstances— neither  rich  nor  poor.  When,  however, 
she  is  solicited  to  contribute  any  thing  in  charity,  or 
to  promote  the  cause  of  Christ,  or  even  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  church  of  which  she  is  a  member,  she  in- 
variably excuses  herself  on  the  plea  of  inability.  Her 
disposition  is  most  benevolent  and  generous,  accor- 
ding to  her  own  account.  "  You  have  come  to  the 
right  one,"  she  says  to  the  solicitor,  "  if  I  only  had 
the  means  to  aid  you.  No  person  is  fonder  of  giving 
than  I  am,  or  would  give  more  liberally  than  I  would ; 
I  am  poor — my  family  is  large  and  expensive — my 
means  have  fallen  short  this  year ;  and  I  fear  I  shall 
not  be  able  to  pay  my  just  debts.  I  am  grieved  that 
I  cannot  aid  you  ;  I  feel  a  deep  interest  in  the  cause 
which  you  plead,  and  hope  I  shall  be  able  next  year 
to  give  something  handsome  to  it."  -These  arc  fair 
words ;  but  they  arc  deceitful.  Go  to  sister  S/unccy's 
house,  and  you  will  Gnd  her  living  in  the  greatest 
comfort,  and  even  in  splendor.  Her  furniture  is  ele- 
gant ;  her  table  sumptuous  ;  her  daughters  dress  more 
expensively  than  any  young  ladies  in  the  neighborhood ; 
and,  in  short,  no  cost  is  spared  which  can  contribute 
to  the  enjoyment  or  respectability  of  her  family.  And 


242  INCONSISTENT   CHRISTIANS. 

I  know  that  she  occasionally  lends  out  small  sums  of 
money  at  unlawful  interest.  No  pew  in  the  church, 
except  the  very  best,  would  suit  her.  This  having 
been  procured  for  her,  she  furnished  with  cushions, 
footstools,  and  gilt  books,  in  tasteful  and  costly  style ; 
though  she  rarely  pays  the  rent.  On  one  occasion 
the  church,  being  in  debt,  resolved  to  make  an  effort 
to  pay  it.  The  members,  according  to  their  several 
abilities,  contributed  to  secure  so  desirable  an  object. 
But  sister  Skowey  declined  giving  any  thing  on  her 
usual  plea  of  poverty.  While,  however,  this  effort 
was  being  made,  and  some  of  the  poorer  members  were 
giving  beyond  their  ability,  to  supply  her  lack  of  lib- 
erality, she  had  a  large  and  gay  party  at  her  house, 
which  cost  her  five  times  as  much  as  her  fair  propor- 
tion of  the  church  debt.  She  might  be  a  useful  Chris- 
tian, for  she  is  kind  in  her  spirit,  and  refined  in  her 
manners ;  but  her  inconsistency,  "  known  and  read 
of  all  men,"  makes  her  "a  by-word  and  hissing" 
among  the  ungodly,  and  a  mortification  to  her  breth- 
ren. 

Brother  Worthless  is  a  bundle  of  inconsistencies. 
His  life  is  made  up  of  them.  To  point  them  out 
would  be  to  write  his  entire  religious  history.  You 
cannot  infer  from  his  principles  what  his  conduct  will 
be ;  nor  from  his  conduct  what  his  principles  are.  He 
is  a  professor  of  religion  ;  but  his  life  is  often  sadly 
at  variance  with  his  profession.  But  I  must  be  more 
definite  in  my  remarks.  Brother  Worthless  contracts 
debts  without  a  reasonable  prospect  of  paying  them  ; 


INCONSISTENT  CHRISTIANS.  243 

and  then  promises  to  pay,  without  making  any  ear- 
nest effort  to  fulfill  his  engagements.  I  do  not  affirm 
that  he  wilfully  violates  his  promises  ;  hut  he  has  so 
frequently  broken  them,  that  they  command  no  confi- 
dence in  trade.  I  dare  not  charge  him  with  deliberate 
lying,  but  he  is  so  addicted  to  exaggeration,  that  little 
reliance  can  be  placed  on  his  solemn  asseverations. 
He  is  a  warm  advocate  of  temperance — would  gladly 
make  abstinence  from  strong  drink  a  term  of  church 
membership  ;  and  yet  he  is  completely  enslaved  by  his 
appetites.  He  is  a  man  of  energy.  No  inclemency 
of  weather  prevents  him  from  attending  to  his  secular 
business.  In  heat  and  cold,  in  rain,  snow,  and  storm, 
early  and  late,  he  may  be  found  at  the  market,  in  his 
store,  or  wherever  interest  may  call  him.  He  attends, 
through  all  difficulties,  political  meetings,  the  meet- 
ings of  the  Division  of  the  Sons  of  Temperance,  musi- 
cal concerts,  literary  lectures,  the  meetings  of  joint 
stock  companies — in  short,  any  meetings  for  business 
or  pleasure,  and  even,  occasionally,  it  is  said,  the  the- 
atre ;  but  he  rarely  attends  religious  meetings,  except 
on  Lord's-day  mornings ;  and  then  the  slightest  ex- 
cuse— fatigue,  the  muddiness  of  the  streets,  the  threat- 
ening aspect  of  the  weather,  or  the  presence  of  irreli- 
gious company — will  suffice  to  keep  him  away.  One 
cloudy  Sunday  his  place  in  the  house  of  worship  wag 
vacant.  Monday  morning  I  met  him  at  the  market  in 
a  torrent  of  rain.  I  said  to  him,  "  I  did  not  see  you 
at  church  yesterday  morning."  "  No,"  he  replied,  "  I 
was  afraid  it  would  rain."  "  But  you  are  not  afraid 


244  INCONSISTENT   CHRISTIANS. 

of  the  rain  this  morning,  it  seems,"  I  remarked 
"  Oh,"  he  said,  "  I  am  obliged  to  come  to  market.' 
Brother  Worthless  is  very  careful  to  send  his  daugh- 
ters to  a  dancing  school ;  but  they,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, since  they  commenced  learning  to  dance,  have 
very  little  relish  for  the  Sunday-school,  and  seldom 
attend  it ;  and  he  does  not  use  his  authority  or  in- 
fluence to  correct  the  evil.  During  a  revival,  in  which 
many  children  of  his  neighbors  were  joyfully  convert- 
ed, he  professed  great  concern  for  the  salvation  of  his 
own  children,  though  he  was  rarely  present  at  the 
meetings,  and  took  no  pains  to  induce  his  children  to 
attend.  Their  conversion,  under  the  circumstances, 
would  have  been  a  miracle — a  harvest  without  sow- 
ing. He  is  seldom  present  at  church  meetings,  but 
is  almost  certain  to  complain  of  what  is  done  in  his 
absence.  He  is  fond  of  doctrinal  preaching,  and 
deems  it  a  great  hardship  when  his  pastor  does  not 
feed  him  on  such  food  as  he  relishes.  But  I  need  not 
dwell  longer  on  his  character.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that 
it  is  made  up  of  groundless  prejudices,  childish  whims, 
strange  inconsistencies,  and  criminal  perversities. 

The  bad  effects  of  inconsistency  among  Christians 
are  manifold,  obvious,  and  melancholy. 

It  is  subversive  of  usefulness.  Who  can  confide  in 
an  inconsistent  Christian ?  "I  heard,"  says  a  Chris- 
tian minister,  "  an  excellent  sermon  to  young  people, 
on  a  New  Year's  day,  in  the  morning.  The  text 
was,  '  Redeeming  the  time  because  the  days  are  evil.'" 
The  minister  then  went  to  dine,  and  spend  the  rest  of 


INCONSISTENT  CHRISTIANS.  245 

the  day  with  a  party,  where  the  time  was  spent  in 
feasting,  levity,  and  folly.  Late  in  the  evening,  one 
of  the  party  observed,  "  Really,  this  is  a  poor  way  of 
redeeming  the  time."  "  Poh  !"  said  another,  "it  is 
all  a  farce."*  What  a  pity  it  was  that  the  influence 
of  a  good  sermon  should  have  been  counteracted  by 
the  thoughtless  inconsistency  of  the  minister  who 
preached  it !  But  so  it  was.  And  such  must  ever 
be  the  effect  of  inconsistency  in  Christians.  The  most 
instructive  and  powerful  sermons  will  avail  nothing 
if  they  are  not  enforced  by  the  resistless  eloquence  of 
a  blameless  life.  Men  suspect,  and  well  may  they 
suspect,  the  sincerity  of  those  whose  lives  are  not  in 
harmony  with  their  principles  and  teaching.  The  pul- 
pit cannot,  and  it  ought  not,  to  shield  them  from  mer- 
ited reproach.  "Thou,  therefore,  which  teachest 
another,  teachest  thou  not  thyself  ?  thou  that  preach- 
est  a  man  should  not  steal,  dost  thou  steal  ?  thou 
that  sayest  a  man  should  not  commit  adultery,  dost 
thou  commit  adultery  ?  thou  that  abhorrest  idols, 
dost  thou  commit  sacrilege  ?"*  We  instinctively  re- 
ply to  the  inconsistent  reprover  of  sin,  "Physician, 
heal  thyself."  If,  then,  Christians  would  be  useful 
— would  be  "  the  salt  of  the  earth,"  and  "  the  light 
of  the  world  " — their  lives  must  be  coincident  with 
their  principles — a  living,  luminous,  inspiring  com- 
mentary on  the  doctrine  which  they  profess  and 
teach.  Then  will  the  world  give  them  credit  for  sin- 

*  Anrine's  Cy.  of  Mer.  and  Bel.  Anecdotes,  209. 
t  Rom.  ii :  21,  22. 


246  INCONSISTENT    CHRISTIANS. 

cerity,  do  homage  to  their  moral  worth,  and  be  won 
by  the  gospel  of  Christ. 

Inconsistency  among  Christians  is  a  reproach  to  the 
Redeemer.  It  seems  unfair  that  Christianity  should 
be  held  responsible  for  the  misconduct  of  those  who  as- 
sume her  garb  and  her  name,  but  do  not  imbibe  her 
spirit,  reverence  her  authority,  or  trust  in  her  prom- 
ises :  but  so  it  is,  and  so,  to  a  great  extent,  it  must 
be.  But  few  will  take  the  trouble  to  discriminate 
between  Christianity  and  the  unworthy  professors  of 
it.  Most  men  will  form  their  estimate  of  the  system 
from  the  lives  of  those  who  embrace  it,  whether  sin- 
cerely or  hypocritically.  Thus  Christ  is  wounded  in 
the  house  of  his  friends.  The  inconsistencies  of  his 
followers  are  a  hindrance  to  his  cause,  and  a  reproach 
to  his  name.  If,  then,  Christians  would  honor  their 
Master,  they  must  carefully  avoid — in  spirit,  in  word, 
and  in  deed — whatsoever  is  incompatible  with  their 
high  profession  and  their  solemn  obligations,  and  as- 
siduously follow  whatsoever  things  are  pure,  and  love- 
ly, and  of  good  report. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


LIBRARY 


v e  mirror. 


1  TH 


A     001  145  775     1 


BV 
4510 


